Destined
by TheMotherQuill
Summary: "It is said that some lives are linked across time, connected by an ancient calling that echoes throughout the ages..." Headstrong and reckless Luthiel was raised a Dunedan, and has seen just as much strife as she has happiness. She volunteers to accompany the Fellowship to Mount Doom, a decision which may break her in the end. (Book and movie verse.)
1. Prologue

**A/N: Greetings readers! I have recently updated all of the chapters present, as I have learned more about the Elvish language since originally uploading the chapters. I've gone through the whole story and replaced all of the flawed Elvish with what it should be, and given handy translations at the ends of sentences. As always, I own nothing you recognize from either book or film, despite wishing heartily that I did. Basically anything familiar belongs to J.R.R Tolkien and his estate. Not many original characters abound, save for our leading lady, Luthiel. I hope you enjoy the edits, and leave reviews!  
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_It is said some lives are linked across time, connected by an ancient calling that echoes through the ages…_

Prologue~ Descendant

(August 1, 3000 III)

The sky throughout the Shire had just begun to be painted with the colors of dusk when a single horse and rider was spotted flying across the plains. The horse rode as swiftly as an eagle flies, and the rider faltered not once as the pair neared Buckland. On the borders of Buckland, the Dúnedain were well aware of the pair that hastened towards them. Halbarad, the second in command of the Dúnedain, ordered for a perimeter.

When the rider was half a league from the entrance of the forest, Halbarad ordered his riders out to surround him. The rider didn't slow his pace as the twelve Dúnedain surrounded him on their horses, but he kept riding with all haste until he reached the entrance to the forest, where Halbarad stood with twenty other men, wielding bows notched with arrows, ready to fire.

"Halt! I am Halbarad, Captain of these lands! State your purpose quickly or find an arrow in your chest."

"Surely it has not been so long that you do not recognize a friend," the rider said, drawing back his hood. There, before all of the Rangers present, was Aragorn son of Arathorn, Chieftain of the Dúnedain. Those standing took a knee, bowing to their Chieftain, while those on horseback bowed their heads.

"Forgive me Chieftain, I did not think to look for you. Please, break your journey for but a few words." Halbarad said to his friend and leader. Aragorn shook his head, dismounting.

"I am afraid I cannot, old friend. I stop but for one thing," Aragorn said, moving his riding cloak so that those around him could see what he carried. There, lying contently in his arms, was a small bundle of fine silk. Halbarad drew closer and watched as Aragorn removed some of the silk, revealing an infant with slightly tipped ears.

"M-my Lord?" Halbarad asked, confused and nervous.

"Halbarad, I have a task for you."

"Yes my Lord?"

"I ask you to raise this child. Will you keep her secret, keep her safe? Will you be able to lie to this child?"

"M-my Lord…I do not think I understand?"

"Halbarad," Aragorn said seriously, his grey eyes locking onto those of his lieutenant, "Take my daughter, and see to it that she knows nothing of her origins." he said darkly. Halbarad's eyes widened and he shook his head.

"M-my Lord…y-your what? Surely…but the lady Arwen…" he muttered.

"Halbarad!" Aragorn thundered. Halbarad was drawn from his musings by his Chieftain's bark and the sound of the child starting to wail. He turned to Aragorn and met his eyes. The Chieftain's eyes were bleary with unshed tears, and there was such a look of pleading, of _begging_ in the green depths that Halbarad was startled.

"Please…" Aragorn rasped. "Please my friend…she cannot know. She must never know. The days are dark of late. This is…for her own good." he said, looking away from Halbarad's eyes and away from his fretting child. He began to whisper to the girl and rock her gently, trying to quell her tears. Halbarad reached forward and Aragorn hesitantly placed the babe into his arms.

"If by my life or death I must carry out your order, my Chieftain…I will." he said, tenderly wrapping the girl back in her silken bundle. It was no blanket she was swaddled in, but a fine Elvish cloak.

"T-thank you…thank you, Halbarad." Aragorn choked out. He looked to the child once more and touched the bundle with the utmost love and care. Halbarad looked down at the baby and couldn't imagine the pain the Chieftain was experiencing at having to give up his child.

"Lúthiel," Aragorn said.

"Chieftain?" Halbarad asked softly.

"Lúthiel…her name is Lúthiel, for her ancestor who gave her immortality for the mortal man she loved." Aragorn looked up at the sky in sorrow. Never had he imagined such a pain. She was only three months old, and the thought of loving someone so much after so little time bewildered him.

"Yes, Chieftain…I know the story. I shall guard her with my life, and treat her as though she were my own. But—with all due respect my Lord—you truly wish for her to know nothing of you, of her mother?"

"Nothing, Halbarad. She can know nothing of where she comes from. If the enemy…I can't even think what would happen should the enemy find not one heir of Numenor, but two. No Halbarad, she must grow in ignorance of her origins."

"Yes, my Lord. Will you never come to see her then?"

"No, Halbarad, I shall come see her. I shall be her Chieftain as I am yours, nothing more. Nothing more…" Aragorn said, pain painted on his features as he turned from his child.

"I must go now, before—I must go." he said gruffly, climbing atop his steed. As he saluted his Dúnedain, he looked down at Halbarad.

"See that she is loved, Halbarad. That is all I ask. Loved and protected."

"Yes, Chieftain, I won't fail you, or Lady Arwen." With that, Halbarad bowed and Aragorn was off. As he watched his Chieftain ride off, Halbarad held the infant girl in his arms and wondered about the future of the girl.

_Lúthiel_…

(May 1, 3007 III)

"Hab?" the young Lúthiel asked from where she was perched in the saddle in front of Halbarad. He smiled at the nickname she had called him all her life and nodded.

"Yes Lúthiel?"

"Where are we going?"

"We are going to Imladris, the realm of the Elves."

"Why are we going to the Elves?" Lúthiel asked, though not without a small amount of elation and joy. Long had she been fascinated by the stories of Elves and eagles, of dragons and of dwarves in their caves. Halbarad had read to her since the first night he had her, not knowing what else to do with an infant.

"The Chieftain's mother, Lady Gilraen…she has died."

"The Chieftain has a mother?" she asked incredulously. She had never met the Chieftain but she had heard all the stories that Halbarad could tell her of him. The riders around them chuckled lightly.

"Yes little one, he did."

"Is he sad, Hab?"

"I expect so, but that does not mean you must be sad. When we think of death, we should think of peace, little one." For a time, Lúthiel was silent and Halbarad was at peace as well. Then, she began to stir and fidget on the horse.

"Hab?"

"Yes Lúthiel?" Halbarad sighed good-naturedly.

"Was Lady Gilraen an Elf? I thought Elves don't die?"

"No, Lady Gilraen was not an Elf. And yes, Elves can die. They are immortal, Lúthiel, which means they will live forever should nothing mortally harm them. Elves do not die of old age."

"I would like to be an Elf I think." Lúthiel said, and resituated herself in the saddle. "Living so long…I bet I'd have some wonderful adventures."

"Aye, I supposed you would." Halbarad answered, subdued.

Lúthiel began to fiddle with the skirt of the dress Halbarad had forced her into after much arguing. He had argued long and hard to get her into a pair of slippers or boots, but had lost that battle. The child was forever running around bare of foot. Halbarad closed his eyes tightly for a moment and then shook his head just slightly.

"Captain," Halbarad looked up from his musings to find a host of Elves standing to greet them before the gates of Imladris.

"_Mae govannen, mellyn nín_. [Welcome, my friends.]" said a tall Elf with dark hair.

"Who is he, Hab?" Lúthiel whispered, clutching at Halbarad's arms for safety amidst these strangers.

"I am Lord Elrond of Rivendell. Please, allow us to accompany you into the city so your horses might be tended to." the Elf said cordially. He kept looking at Lúthiel though, with a strange blankness that made her feel self-conscious.

"Come Lúthiel, let us go see the Chieftain and the Elves." Halbarad said, offering her his arms so that she might slide from the saddle instead of jump. She gladly took his offer and he continued to hold her hand as they walked into the city lead by the Elves.

"Chieftain," Halbarad and the other Dúnedain said as the Chieftain came into view. They all took a knee before the tall man, and Lúthiel followed suit, or did the best she could in a dress.

"My friends, please stand." Aragorn spoke gently. He had barely noticed who all had come, for his eyes had gone straight to the girl beside Halbarad. When she stood from kneeling, he saw her full height. She was tall for her age, long-limbed and awkward, as he had been at that age. Her hair was long and midnight-black, falling to her shoulder blades in twisted curls and waves. He noticed she was barefoot, which made him want to smile. She had neat, straight dark eyebrows that raised inquisitively at him, and her eyes…her eyes were the same grey as his own.

"My Lord, may I present my charge, Lúthiel Lómelindi. Lúthiel, this is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Chieftain of the Dúnedain." Halbarad said, standing and placing a hand on Lúthiel's shoulder. Again, she knelt in respect, but stood again to look up into her father's face.

"I know your face." she said, dark brows knitting in confusion.

"And how is that, little one?" Aragorn asked, kneeling himself so that she was his equal in height.

"In my dreams. I have seen you with a white tree, a green stone, and a sword once broken." Lúthiel said, staring into the grey-green depths of her father's eyes. Aragorn stood, unable to be so close to her without touching her.

"Well, I have seen you in my dreams as well little one. You are just as beautiful now that I see you, as you were in those dreams." Lúthiel smiled at Aragorn and she slid her hand into his.

"I'm sorry your mother died, Lord Chieftain. I don't have a mother either." she said.

"I…" Aragorn was stunned at the young girl's empathy. It pained him more than his own mother's death to think that his daughter didn't know her mother. It pained him more still to be so close to her, touching her, and not being able to tell her everything.

"Thank you, little flower. Halbarad, will you walk with me for a bit?"

"Who will watch over Lúthiel?"

"I shall, if you wish." a voice said. Aragorn and Halbarad turned to see a tall, handsome Elf with golden hair, all clad in the colors of the forest.

"Legolas, your presence brings me joy. _Hannon lle, mellon nín_. [Thank you, my friend.]" Aragorn said, clasping the Elf's forearm with his hand. Legolas greeted him the same way and bent his head to him.

"I am sorry for your loss, _mellon nín_."

"Halbarad, this is Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, an old friend of mine. Legolas, this is Halbarad, Captain of the Dúnedain." Halbarad bowed to the Prince, and Lúthiel watched the tall blonde Elf in awe. He bowed to Halbarad in turn, even though he was a Prince.

"Your hair is golden, not dark like the other Elves here. Why?" Lúthiel asked with one brow slightly raised. Legolas smiled and knelt down to be of equal height with Lúthiel.

"You must be Lúthiel."

"Yes, my Lord." she said, and bowed her head. When she looked up Legolas was smiling even wider.

"Well, are you going to tell me?"

"Yes little one, I shall. Would you like to walk with me while Aragorn and Halbarad speak of serious matters?"

"May I, Halbarad?" Lúthiel asked anxiously, clasping her hands together in front of her chest.

"Yes, but be _nice_." Halbarad intoned, giving her a significant look.

"I am always nice. Now come along, Prince." Lúthiel said, grabbing Legolas's hand and dragging him on a walk. Legolas tried not to laugh as he was dragged off by the little half-Elf. He slowly began to lead her towards the eternally autumnal gardens of Imladris.

"Now, my little friend, what would you have me tell you of the Elves?" Legolas asked as he lifted Lúthiel onto the edge of a fountain and she began to walk around it, their hands still entwined.

"You are not like the Elves here in…Imladris, are you?"

"No, I am from the Woodland Realm; Mirkwood it is called now, but once it was known as Greenwood the Great or Eryn Galen in the Sindarin. My father is King there."

"How many different kinds of Elves are there?"

"Well, that is a very long story to tell, one that starts far away from Middle Earth."

"I know the story of how the Elves came to Middle Earth. Halbarad tells me many stories of the Elves. He says my mother was an Elf."

"Yes, your mother i—was an Elf. Which makes you a Peredhil—a half Elf."

"I see things sometimes, in my dreams…" Lúthiel said softly, looking down into the cool waters of the fountain.

"What kind of things, little one?" Legolas asked, intrigued. He knew the story of Lúthiel's origins, who her parents were, and what a burden it was for them to not be with her. Arwen would not even come to Imladris for the burial ceremony of Gilraen, for she did not want to see her daughter and have to part with her again.

"I see a woman, I think she is my mother. She's very beautiful, and she looks like me. And I see the Chieftain. He knew my mother I think, and I think he cares for me deeply because of it."

"Yes, he does indeed. Many people care for you, Lúthiel. You should never feel alone, for there are many in this Middle Earth and beyond whose thoughts are filled with your face."

Lúthiel looked up at Legolas and smiled.

"You are going to be my friend someday, Legolas." Legolas smiled in return and nodded.

"If you would have my friendship, it is yours now and forever." He turned, having heard Aragorn somewhere far off saying that it was time to start the ceremony, and then looked back to Lúthiel. "I believe it is time to go pay our respects to the Lady Gilraen. Come, we can go past the great falls if you'd like."

"Oh yes please!" Lúthiel said as she jumped gracefully from the fountain and took the Elf Prince's hand again.

Lúthiel stood between Halbarad and Legolas and listened in bewildered sorrow as the Elves sang a beautiful lament for Gilraen. She felt tears slide down her cheeks, but could not reason why she felt such sorrow for a woman she did not know.

"What are they singing?" Lúthiel whispered up to Legolas. Legolas, though he had been standing stoically before in respect for the mourners and the Lady Gilraen, knelt down and began to translate the lament.

"I saw a star rise high in the evening sky. It hung like a jewel, softly shining. I saw a star fade in the evening sky. The dark was too deep and so light died, softly pining. For what might have been, for what never was, for a life long lived, for a love half given. You are not bound to loss and silence. For you are not bound to the circles of this world. All things must pass away, all life is doomed to fade. Sorrowing you must go, and yet you are not without hope." he whispered softly.

Lúthiel felt more hot tears seer her cheeks, and sobs were burning the back of her throat, but Legolas's words soothed her sorrow some, and she looked to the Chieftain, to Aragorn son of Arathorn, and son of Lady Gilraen.

"Come, it is time to offer a blessing to Aragorn," Halbarad told her, placing his strong, warm hand on her back. Lúthiel needed little more encouragement than his words, for she surged forth to Aragorn and knelt at his feet.

"M-my Lord, I am s-sorry for your l-loss," she said softly, sobs breaking her speech, "M-may Lady G-Gilraen walk t-the halls of Mandos i-in peace." Lúthiel started when she felt a hand lifting her chin, and looked up into the bleary eyes of her Chieftain. He took her hands in his and kissed them gently, then looked at her again from where he was kneeling.

"Would that she had known you, little flower. Would that she could have seen how lovely and how kind your heart is, for one you did not even know." he said softly. Lúthiel felt the urge to hug him, and so she let her arms come up and she stood so that she could hug him fully even as he knelt. Aragorn wrapped his arms around his small daughter and closed his eyes, imagining what life could have been with her.

"_Hannon lle, tithener_. [Thank you, little one.]" he whispered, holding her tightly, but gently in his arms. He let go swiftly and stood though, knowing that if he held on any longer, he would not let go again.

"I thank you, little one, for your kind words." he said, and then turned to Halbarad. Lúthiel felt lost for a moment, not being able to speak to or to touch Aragorn anymore, but she felt a soft hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Legolas there with an approving—if not slightly sad—smile on his thin lips.

"Well spoken, little one." he said softly, wiping her cheek for her, then turning to Aragorn as well. He kept his hand open though, and Lúthiel slid hers into it as they stood together in comfortable silence. When Halbarad finally turned about, he found Lúthiel staring up at Legolas with admiration and a soft smile.

"Lúthiel, shall we go see to our stomachs?" Halbarad asked, sweeping her up into his arms. Lúthiel nodded and laid her head against his chest. As the two walked off towards the Great Hall, Aragorn and Legolas looked after them.

"_Hen bain, mellon nín_. [She is beautiful, my friend.]"

"_Thand_. She looks like her mother. [True/Yes.]"

"She looks like you." Legolas said, placing his hand on Aragorn's shoulder.

"I miss her, even though I never had her…"

"That is not hard to believe. She is your child, Aragorn."

"She is Halbarad's…"

"She is yours, Aragorn. And I think she may know it, or suspect it." Aragorn turned to Legolas and furrowed his brows.

"She spoke to me of strange dreams she has. She has seen Arwen in those dreams, and knows or suspects she is her mother. Your painted life will wash away should the two ever meet."

"I do not think that will happen. Arwen…could not bear seeing her today. I do not think she will ever see her…"

"She will, _mellon nín_. And one day, you will not need to fear for her."

"Let us hope that day comes sooner, rather than later." Aragorn said, patting his friend's shoulder.

Lúthiel sat sleepily in the saddle, waiting for Halbarad to mount behind her and for them to ride back to Buckland. She blinked sleep from her eyes and hid a yawn in her cloak.

"Goodbye, little one. May our paths meet again." Legolas' voice said from her right. Lúthiel turned and smiled. Legolas took her hand and kissed it, then bowed to her. At this, she laughed and shook her head.

"Goodbye, Legolas. And don't fret, we shall see each other again." Lúthiel said, sure of her words. Legolas smiled and walked to say farewell to Halbarad. It was then that Lúthiel saw Aragorn approaching her slowly with a soft look on his face.

"My Lord," Lúthiel said, bowing her head.

"There's no need for the formalities, little one. I've come to say farewell, and," he pulled a small parcel from a pocket somewhere in his over-tunic, "to give you this. In the swarm of mourners I forgot to wish you a very happy birthday, Lúthiel."

"How…how did you know?"

"I know all there is to know," Aragorn said secretively and with a smirk. "About all of my Rangers. Here, this is for you." he said, placing the small wrapped parcel in her hand.

"Open it when you are alone, and keep it close Lúthiel."

"Yes, my L—yes, Aragorn." Lúthiel said with a smile. Aragorn leaned up and kissed her cheeks, then wished her a final farewell and turned to do the same for his other Dúnedain.

Lúthiel crept from her bed in the softly growing light of the dawn, and she pulled her cloak on, leaving her feet bare as always. She had never worn a pair of shoes, for she could feel the earth's breath better without them. Lúthiel made no noise as she languidly slid from the small home she shared with Halbarad, and when she reached her destination—the small stable the Captain kept his horse in—she slowed and crawled inside an empty stall.

There, Lúthiel lit a candle and placed it on the ground. She pulled the parcel Aragorn had given her out and read the writing on the wrapping again.

_For a little flower, may many birthdays follow this. You are always in my thoughts. –Aragorn_.

Lúthiel gingerly slid her finger underneath the seam of the wrapping and peeled it open. Beneath the wrapping was a plain wooden box, which she took the top off of. What lay inside made her breath catch loudly, and she covered her mouth. There, on a pillow of blue velvet, lay a small silver knife—no longer than her forearm—hilted in black leather with the insignia of a tree on the pommel.

Inside was a small card which read, "_Keep this with you always, and learn its uses well_."

Lúthiel took the weight of the knife in her hand and turned it over and again. She ran her finger over the hilt and traced the tree there, feeling a sense of calm come over her as she did so. Beneath the pillow was a black sheath which was also decorated with the same tree. Lúthiel slid the knife into the sheath, and strapped it to her calf where it rested comfortably.

Lúthiel blew out the candle, crept carefully back to the little house she shared with Halbarad, back into her little room, and to her little bed; her little head was filled with grand things. She was being protected by the Chieftain of the Dúnedain. She had made a new Elven friend. She had seen Imladris, the city of the Elves.

She had had a grand birthday…

(October 18, 3018 III)

Lúthiel urged her mount on in great haste behind Glorfindel, the Elf who was leading her to the Halflings, and the Chieftain.

"I can hear them up ahead. No more than three leagues from here, little one." Glorfindel said over his shoulder to her. Lúthiel nodded, though inwardly she was seething for the fact that she could not hear them. She was a Peredhil, one of the half-Elven, she should have been able to.

"Lúthiel, you will stay with Aragorn and the other Halflings, understood? Lord Elrond does not want you travelling alone through the forest with the Baggins."

"Lord Elrond may jump off a cliff for all that I care, the old goat. He holds no power over me." Lúthiel said agitatedly. She urged her mount forward and attempted to overtake Glorfindel, but the Elf was faster. This bothered Lúthiel to no end, as she had to use a saddle and the Elf did not. It was the tradition of the Elves to use no saddle or bridle, but Lúthiel had yet to assimilate in this aspect. Glorfindel laughed, tossing back his golden hair, and Lúthiel growled angrily.

"Damn Elf!" she called as he surged on before her.

They reached the encampment where the injured hobbit, his companions, and the Chieftain were, and dismounted. Glorfindel called out to Aragorn, "_Ai na vedui, Dúnadan! Mae govannen_! [Oh, at last Westman! Thou art well met!]"

Lúthiel dismounted and rushed to the Chieftain, kneeling at his feet, then jumping to her feet and hugging him tightly around the neck.

"Aragorn, are you well? Is anyone injured? Are _you_ injured?" she asked, assessing him carefully. He chuckled lightly and shook his head, waving her off.

"It is not I who was injured, Lúthiel. Young Frodo here, was caught by a Nazgul's blade," he said, glancing from Frodo—the hobbit—to Glorfindel with meaning. Briefly, Aragorn began to tell them of the attack on their camp under Weathertop, and of the deadly knife with which Frodo was stricken. He drew out the hilt of the knife, which he had kept with him to show the Elves.

"There are evil things written on this hilt," he said, "though maybe your eyes cannot see them. Keep it, Aragorn, till we reach the house of Elrond. But be wary, and handle it as little as you may. Alas, the wounds of this weapon are beyond my skill to heal. I will do what I can—but all the more do I urge you now to go on without rest."

Glorfindel knelt and searched the wound on Frodo's shoulder with his fingers. His face grew graver as he searched, as though what he learned disquieted him, but Frodo's face seemed to lighten and break through the painful fog, as though the mere touch of the Elf helped to soothe the pain.

"I shall take Frodo to Lord Elrond. Lúthiel will lead you on at a ruthless pace, understand? Lúthiel, do not let them rest more than they must, or eat more than they need. I am away." Glorfindel said and lifted Frodo onto his horse.

"May Eru speed your way." Lúthiel said as she relinquished his reigns to him. As she watched Glorfindel ride off with Frodo, Lúthiel felt a hand on her arm. She turned to find Aragorn there with a soft smile on his face. She returned it and hugged him tightly.

"Lúthiel…" he said as though it were a sigh.

"Aragorn, it's been too long." Lúthiel answered, clasping his arm with hers. Aragorn did the same and smiled.

"Well, we should be heading towards Rivendell, and hastily. Lord Elrond—the old beast—has some very important meeting in a few days." Lúthiel said, placing her hands on her hips and turning to the hobbits.

"Well hello, you must be the other halflings. I am Lúthiel, and I'm to lead you to Rivendell."

"I'm Peregrin Took, but you can call me Pippin. This here is my good friend and relation Merry."

"Meriadoc Brandybuck at your service, my lady."

"Merry and Pippin…and you would be…"

"Samwise Gamgee, uh…Sam, my lady." said the last one with a little bow. Lúthiel smiled and shook her head.

"You need not bow to me, Mister Sam, I am no lady. I am a ranger, like Aragorn here."

"Strider, Lúthiel. They know me as Strider."

"Aragorn?" Pippin asked.

"I have many names." Aragorn said simply. Lúthiel began packing things onto the pony and her own horse, Galad.

"We must travel quickly, for there are four riders unaccounted for. Come, ready yourselves for a grueling pace my new friends." Lúthiel said. She stepped away from the hobbits and gripped Aragorn's arm for a moment.

"_Hûn nín liria na cen lle, mellon nín_. [My heart sings to see thee, my friend.]" she said with a small smile, placing her hand over her heart. Aragorn cupped her cheek lightly and nodded.

"_Gwen__w__in in enninath_. [Long years have passed.]" he answered, letting his hand drop to her shoulder. He gripped her shoulder with a tight smile, and then turned to help pack.

The last time Aragorn had seen his daughter, she had been sixteen years old. After his first real meeting with her, on the day of his mother's burial, he made a point to visit her as often as possible. He loved her from first sight, but hated himself more and more. He watched as she blossomed into a young woman, who blossomed into a warrior. She was a Dúnedain, a descendant of Numenor, and she fought as well—if not better—than all of his rangers.

Aragorn glanced at her for a moment and noticed her clothing. Despite living in Rivendell for a year now, she still wore the ragged leathers of the Dúnedain. Her tunic was richer, the deep blue color only the Elves could extract from dyes, but her jerkin and breeches were the same old worn leather, weathered from long days in the sun and long nights in the rain and mud. What was odd however, was the fact that she wore boots. He'd never once seen her in shoes, in all her years she had despised them, going so far as to claim that they impeded her tracking abilities. He assumed it had something to do with her now living in Rivendell.

On her hip hung a curved Elvish sword, and strapped to her back were two long silver knives. He knew not what other weapons were hidden in the folds of her cloak or tunic, but suspected more than the eye could see. She was fond of blades, and deadly with them, but her use of bow and arrow was not to be scoffed at either. She was an amazing warrior, even as young as she was.

"Hurry now, it is my task to get you all to Rivendell safely." Lúthiel said as she tossed a pack over her shoulder.

They set off for Rivendell at a grueling pace, and reached the Ford of Bruinen on the 22nd. Once they passed into Rivendell, Lúthiel felt as though she were home again, which was strange to her after calling Buckland her home for nearly sixteen years.

After seeing to the hobbits and reporting back to Lord Elrond, Lúthiel went to her room and found a hot bath drawn up for her in the back foyer. She closed the curtain separating the back from the front of the room and stripped free of her clothing. She slid into the bathwater and sighed, letting all the aches from the long journey dissolve into the hot, lavender-scented water.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: If you recognize it, I most likely didn't write it. Book and film verse. All credit to J.R.R. Tolkien. I only own my few OCs and Luthiel of course.**

Chapter 1~ Imladris

(October 24, 3018 III)

Lúthiel woke early in the morning and dressed herself in a pair of brown leather breeches and a tunic. It was a longer, more feminine version of the traveling tunics worn by the Dúnedain. Lord Elrond had finally acquiesced to letting her wear the breeches and tunics she was used to, for he knew trying to get her into a dress would start a war he did not wish—nor was he prepared—to fight.

As she strapped her knives to her back, she heard a chuckle from the door and swung around.

"You know Lord Elrond's opinion of weapons in his city, little one."

"Legolas!" Lúthiel exclaimed, recognizing the Elf from eleven years before. Without thinking of formalities or pomp, she ran over and hugged him, now nearly his height. Legolas was taken aback at first, but smiled and wrapped his arms around the young woman.

"_Mae govannen, mellon nín_!" Lúthiel said smiling. Legolas smiled at her and cocked his head slightly.

"Your Elvish is perfect, little one."

"I am not so little anymore, my friend. Even Aragorn had to admit my height!"

"I must confess, you are not the little girl I remember from all those years ago…" Legolas answered, studying her face in a fashion that made her cheeks slowly flare, painting them a very pleasant pink color that made Legolas grin.

"Where were you off to before I disturbed your dressing?" Legolas asked affably.

"I was planning on asking Aragorn to break his fast with me. It has been a long while since I sparred with the Chieftain and thought I might show him his age." Legolas's smile faltered and Lúthiel raised a brow.

"What is it?"

"I'm afraid Aragorn has been in conference with Gandalf and Lord Elrond since before the sun rose. There is much to discuss before tomorrow's council, too much in my opinion." Now it was Lúthiel's face that fell. Legolas smiled again.

"My lady…I wonder if you would accept breakfast with me as a substitute? I know I am not a close friend, but—" At this Lúthiel cut him off.

"Nonsense, Legolas! You have often been in my thoughts these many years! Where are my manners? Of course, I should very much like to speak with you. And perhaps after we eat, you might practice your archery with me? I have heard from far and wide that you are the best archer in Middle Earth."

"Well I do not think I am as good as all that, but yes, it would give me great pleasure to take my bow out. I am afraid I have been neglecting it lately."

Legolas stepped out of the doorway and offered his arm to Lúthiel as was the Elven way, and the two walked to the great hall, which had been set aside as a dining area while there were so many visiting Rivendell. As they walked, Legolas took the time to study her features more closely.

Yes, Lúthiel had certainly grown up. Her skin was fair, but had a golden tint to it from travelling in the sun. Her hair was black, but in the sunlight that reached through the many trees surrounding them, Legolas was able to see the shinning auburn strands throughout it as well. It fell over her shoulders and down to her elbows in soft curls, tickling Legolas's hand as they walked.

They reached the great hall and Legolas was quick to loosen his grip on Lúthiel, lest she take his prolonged touch for something more than it was.

Lúthiel walked to a table apart from where most in the hall were, and looked back at Legolas. As he joined her, an Elf maiden brought them a plate of fruit, cheese, bread, and meat. She then walked away and returned moments later with delicate mugs of steaming, floral smelling liquid.

Lúthiel had had tea before she moved to Rivendell with the Elves, but she'd never tasted tea so sweet and delicious. It made every ache leave her body instantly, replacing it with a relaxed, peaceful feeling.

Legolas smiled at her and she blushed again, realizing she was vocalizing her approval with sighs.

"I am sorry…I did not mean to disturb your breakfast."

"No, no, not at all. I remember when I was young and had my first flower tea." Legolas said, still smiling.

"The tea that Halbarad used to make me tasted like an old boot most of the time. I never knew it could taste like this, so when Lord Elrond first offered it to me, I believe I made a horrific face and _accidentally_ spilled it…all over him."

Legolas laughed out loud, forgetting his princely sensibilities, and Lúthiel had to join in. As they laughed and spent the morning talking and telling stories, Lúthiel found that she thoroughly enjoyed his company, and Legolas was thinking the same thing. It was only when a very irked looking Aragorn stormed past the hall that Lúthiel looked at one of the sun-clocks and saw how late it was getting in the day.

"Aragorn!" she called, jumping up from the table. She looked back at Legolas with an apologetic face, but he held a hand up, shaking his head.

"Go, I shall find you later perhaps." he said, and she was off. As he watched her strong, long legs carry her quickly to her father, Legolas shook his head.

_Think clearly, Legolas. She is the daughter of your dearest friend…_

"Chieftain!" Lúthiel called again, catching up to him.

Aragorn shook his head, as though coming from a dream, and then looked down at his daughter. He sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Lúthiel, I am sorry, I was deep in thought. What were you saying?"

Lúthiel studied him momentarily and saw how tired he looked, how spent.

"You look tired, Aragorn." she said, reverting back to the name she had always called him. No one had ever corrected her, or told her that to call the Chieftain by his true name was disrespectful. To them, it was a sign that thought separated from Lúthiel's birth, they were still close to each other.

"Ah, Lúthiel, dark times are approaching, darker than any you or I have seen in our lives."

"You spoke with Gandalf and Lord Elrond this morning?"

"Yes."

"Of the Ring?"

"Yes…"

"What is to be done?" Lúthiel started walking again, taking up the Elven tradition of placing her arm through Aragorn's. He seemed to relax at the gesture.

"It shall all be decided tomorrow…" he sighed.

"At the _secret_ meeting that I have not been invited too, even though I am as much a ranger as Rommel." The name of the older Dúnedain was a sneer on her lips. At this Aragorn chuckled.

"Rommel was a ranger in my service before you were even a twinkle in your mother's eyes." Aragorn said, then stopped suddenly. Lúthiel's head was bowed in silent respect for the mother she'd never known, and been told all of her life was dead.

"Lúthiel, I—"

"It is nothing." Lúthiel said. Her voice had changed, like the light had suddenly gone from her.

"No it is not 'nothing'. I am sorry."

"I said that I am fine, my Lord."

"Lúthiel, please…" Aragorn gripped her wrist before she could slip away from him. He was a steady runner, but she was far younger and more fleet of foot than he.

"Please, let me make it up to you?" he asked. Lúthiel looked up at him and shook her head, smiling sadly.

"May I come to the council meeting?" she asked slyly. Aragorn opened his mouth and drew himself up, his eyebrows knitting together, but before he could scold her, Lúthiel went on,

"I promise not to make a single sound! I will even be respectful to that old sack of bones, Elrond! And I think Gandalf would agree that a voice speaking both for man and Elf would be a great asset amongst the Elven lords who are too quick to judge the race of men! And…and…that is all I had prepared, but I think they are all valid arguments!" She finished by crossing her arms over her chest and inhaling, for she'd scarcely breathed during her oration.

Aragorn just looked at her for a moment. Lúthiel almost cringed at the anger on his face, but managed to swallow back her fear of reprimand. She watched his shoulders begin to slump and his brows to un-knit themselves, and when he exhaled, she knew she'd won him over.

Before he could congratulate her on a fight well won, she'd flung her arms around his neck and squealed joyously.

"Oh, Aragorn! You won't be sorry, I swear it on my life! I promise to be up with the sun, and…and I'll even wear a _dress_ if it'll help un-ruffle Elrond's feathers! Oh, you won't be sorry! I promise! I swear! Oh, Aragorn, thank you!" she said, jumping up and down.

Aragorn laughed, shaking his head, and watched as she danced about him. What a child he'd had. She was far too like her father for her own good, but he loved seeing her smile.

"Very well, very well. I'll hold you to your oath though Lúthiel. Not a single sound or you'll be escorted away so quickly your head will spin. Understood?"

"Yes sir, Chieftain! I understand!" she said with that huge grin still plastered on her beautiful face.

"Well then, if you'll excuse me, I'll have to go inform Lord Elrond that he'll need to place another seat for the council tomorrow. I'm sure he'll be overjoyed it is for you…"

Aragorn began to walk off when he stopped and turned around again.

"Oh, and Lúthiel?"

"Yes?"

"Be sure you do wear a dress. I'm sure it will please Lord Elrond endlessly to see you _properly_ dressed for such an occasion." As he turned to walk off, Lúthiel could hear him chuckle and she grimaced.

"Grand…now to actually obtain a dress." she said, marching off in the direction of one of her few friends in Rivendell.

"Lotherias! Just the friend I was looking for!" Lúthiel said smiling when she came upon the young Elf maiden and a few of her friends. Lotherias was young by Elven standards, though had far surpassed the life expectancy of a mortal woman, and yet she looked younger than Lúthiel, who was barely eighteen.

"Lúthiel? What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the day with your Captain."

"Chieftain, and no, change of plans I am afraid. Listen, I'm to meet with Lord Fancy-Robes tomorrow and I find myself in need of certain…feminine artifacts. Can you help?" Lúthiel said with a crooked smile. Lotherias's friends seemed appalled at the nickname Lúthiel had given to Lord Elrond, who was as a King among the Elves.

"Lúthiel…perhaps we should meet later in my chambers? We were just on our way to meet—"

"Well if it isn't the half-breed bastard from the West! And we had so hoped that Glorfindel would ride you and that donkey of yours to death." sneered Syleath, the son of an Elf of some high station in Rivendell. He and his two friends, Faldron and Felros, were constantly trying to best Lúthiel at archery, horsemanship, and anything else to prove to her she was less than they were.

"Syleath…and I had just begun to enjoy my day. Faldron, Felros…so nice to see you." Lúthiel replied sarcastically. She disliked Lord Elrond simply because he treated her like a child, but she _hated_ the arrogant Elves he tried to make her interact with.

"Tell me _gwaurer_, is it true what they say about you? [dirtyone]" Faldron asked.

"Dear Faldron, Lúthiel makes so many tongues wag with her unseemly habits, you must specify for her." Felros chuckled haughtily.

"Of course Felros, my friend, I am speaking of the fact that Lúthiel here is not a Dúnedain at all, but simply a whore to be had by all the rangers."

Lúthiel did not bristle at their insults often, but this was too far. She took a step towards the four arrogant Elves, but Lotherias placed a hand on her arm.

"Lúthiel, they aren't worth it." her voice was calm, but her eyes were pleading with Lúthiel. Lotherias had seen some of Lúthiel's training sessions with Glorfindel. She knew Lúthiel was more than capable of slaying the haughty boys were they stood. And she knew well Lúthiel's temper pertaining to the Dúnedain. They were her family. She would protect their good name before ever thinking of the consequences for herself.

"Yes Lúthiel, do listen to Lotherias like a good little whore." Syleath sneered.

Before Lúthiel could open her mouth, an arrow shot past Syleath's head, and two more followed in rapid succession. The young Elf Lords were enraged, but when they looked at who stood behind Lúthiel, their mouths fell open.

"_Súlon 'wanna nîf chin, tithen lýg_. [Much wind pours from your mouth, little snake.]"

"Legolas…" Lúthiel breathed, turning to see a look of pure rage on her friend's face, and sweat on his furrowed brow. Lotherias and the other Elf maidens gasped.

"My Lord of Mirkwood, we were just…" Syleath stuttered, then bowed, the other two following suit. The ladies and Lotherias all bowed as well.

"The Dúnedain are a proud people, Syleath. Lúthiel, though more disciplined than any I see here, would part your head from your shoulders before thinking about it. She is more than capable of doing more than that, I wager though… No, you were not _just_ doing anything. You were insulting and besmirching the name of a dear friend of mine, and a ward of Lord Elrond himself."

"My Lord, I cannot express how sorry I am to you." Syleath said, his voice faltering. Lúthiel thought he looked much like a boy being scolded by his tutor.

"I needn't be apologized to, Syleath, but I swear on my right to the throne of Mirkwood, if I hear you speak to Lúthiel thus again, _I_ will part that pretty head of yours from your shoulders. _Taith nin, lýgion_. [Mark me, son of snakes.]" Legolas spoke with a rage that seemed to radiate off of him. He turned to Faldron and Felros then.

"And you two doddering fools, the same goes to you as well. You are neither of you as cunning or conniving as your friend Syleath here, but I wager you've slung your fair share of insults."

The three of them all looked as though they would wet themselves, which Lúthiel found immensely enjoyable. She was too dignified to show it though, in Legolas's presence.

"_Lle henia nin, lýgae_? [Do you understand me, snakes?]" Legolas shouted his last words, making even those that were not listening turn to see what was happening.

The three sons of Elf Lords jumped like small boys. They all nodded, looking down at their feet.

"You may leave now, and I recommend you not leave your chambers the rest of this day or you might find my arrows closer to your heads than you like." Legolas said. The three skittered away and Legolas then looked at the maidens.

"My ladies, I apologize for my temper. Such words should never be spoken before ladies." Legolas said, bowing his head to them. They all giggled and smiled at him, save for Lotherias. Lotherias looked at him as though he was a hero, and at Lúthiel as a friend.

Finally, Legolas turned to Lúthiel and looked into her eyes. Without a word, Legolas extended his arm for her to take, and, smiling, she took it.

Lotherias and her friends watched as they left.

"Lúthiel knows the Prince?"

"They're friends!"

"Did you see how he looked at her?"

"I've never been jealous of anyone, but I wish nothing more than to be Lúthiel right now."

"Lotherias how could you keep this from us?"

They all turned to Lotherias, but she just shook her head.

"I was unaware they'd ever met. But I am glad for it. Lúthiel was about to kill Syleath…"

The ladies all gasped and shook their heads.

"Legolas, I—"

"How long has Syleath treated you like…_that_?" Legolas asked once they reached a secluded part of the woods where he'd been training earlier.

"Never before." Lúthiel lied.

Legolas said nothing, just looked at her blankly. Lúthiel sighed, lowering her gaze.

"When I arrived in Imladris two years ago there was a banquet. Lord Elrond tried to 'socialize' me with Elves who were considered roughly my age. Lotherias and I made fast friends, but others were not so quick to my cause. Syleath…asked me to dance, showing off his fine manners and even finer smile. I obliged, finding his company likeable. He had a silver tongue, and used it well that night. The trouble, though, came when he tried to do more with his silver tongue than give compliments."

Legolas's knuckles turned white at his sides, and his jaw tightened.

"He tried forcing himself upon me, not knowing I was well trained in the arts of combat. I brought him to his knees, bloodied his nose, and sliced a thick cut in his cheek. If you look now, the scar is still visible."

"I am sorry. I did not seek proper retribution then."

"What?" Lúthiel asked, her brows furrowing, "You did more than enough for me Legolas. More than anyone else has done for me here…"

"If I had known the extent of his grievances toward you…he would not have left my presence alive." Legolas said softly, but darkly. Lúthiel looked up into his eyes and then, without thinking, leaned her forehead against his chest.

Legolas put his arms around her gently, but firmly, and she hugged him back. Then, he turned her around and marched her towards the clearing they were on the outskirts of.

"If you're anything like your Chieftain, and I believe you are, then sparring will make you feel infinitely better. Now pick up that bow there and we will begin." Legolas said. Lúthiel looked up at him and smiled, then picked up the bow and took her stance beside him, aiming the bow.

That evening, as Lúthiel tiredly made her way back to her chambers, she couldn't help thinking of Legolas. No one but the Chieftain and Halbarad had ever shown her such kindness as he did today. She was happy to call him friend, and hoped she could also call him ally at the council meeting on the morrow.

When Lúthiel reached her room, she found that Lotherias had indeed left her a gown. It was a beautiful cornflower blue, and was embroidered with small sparkling pearls up the front of the bodice. The sleeves belled out around her wrists and the soft fabric tickled her fingers pleasantly. About the waist hung a belt entirely covered in white pearls, though instead of being bulky and thick, laid gracefully down the front of the gown. Along with the dress was a dark blue cloak that had gleaming, white beading on the back in the curling shape of a beautiful tree.

"The tree…" she whispered. Quickly, Lúthiel pulled her dagger—the one Aragorn had given her on her seventh birthday—from her boot, where it was always kept. There, on the pommel, was the same tree.

_Elessar…_

A distant voice in her head whispered the name she'd heard since she could remember, and the image of a green stone set in a silver eagle flashed through her mind.

"Lúthiel?" a voice asked.

She turned to see Lotherias standing there with a dress in her hands.

"Lotherias, this gown is gorgeous. I…I cannot accept it."

"What gown?" Lotherias asked, coming inside. She looked at the gown in Lúthiel's hands and her eyes widened.

"This is not from my wardrobe, Lúthiel."

"You did not bring it to me?"

"No, this is the dress I picked out for you," Lotherias said, lifting the yellow dress up for Lúthiel to see. It was a pretty dress, but the one in Lúthiel's hands made her feel, strangely, like she belonged.

"This is the White Tree of Gondor, is it not?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"What would a symbol of the Kingdom of men be doing on a dress clearly of Elven make?" Lúthiel asked, running her fingers over the tree.

"I do not know. Perhaps your Chieftain had it made for you?" Lotherias offered. Lúthiel nodded, taking that as good an excuse as any.

"Now, tell me about your day with the _Prince_." Lotherias said, flouncing on the bed and pulling Lúthiel with her. Lúthiel smiled and began to recount her day.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2~ Council

(October 25, 3018 III)

Lúthiel woke early the morning of the council. She had slept fitfully the night before, her dreams filled with the face of the mother she never knew, an Elven Queen clad all in white with golden hair, a green gemstone that shimmered with the light of the sun, the White Tree, and the Chieftain. She had seen battles in her dreams, bloody and horrifying even to a seasoned Ranger. She saw the Ring, the very thing that they would be meeting about this morning, and she saw Mount Doom in Mordor, a land she had never seen, but instinctively recognized by its nightmarish features.

Lúthiel dressed slowly, not used to the intricacies of dresses. Lotherias had given her a pair of slippers to wear, but she had decided against them. She instead went barefoot, and found comfort in the old habit. She decided she would fasten the dagger Aragorn had given her to her calf, even knowing to bring a weapon to a peaceful council was against Elvish law. It was less a weapon today and more a touchstone. She found comfort in the slightly worn leather hilt, the intricately carved silver pommel depicting the White Tree, and the coolness of the silver and leather sheath.

Lúthiel never braided her hair, for though she was half Elven, her hair was all human. It was coarse and thick, but beautiful. She let the curls fall to her elbows in their untamed curls, and did little else. Just as she was donning the blue cloak, a knock sounded at her door.

"Come in," she said as she fastened the silver brooch that was made to look like a tree branch.

"Good morning my dear, it is good to see you."

Lúthiel looked up with a large smile to see Gandalf the Grey in her doorway with Frodo, the hobbit Glorfindel had rescued and brought to Rivendell.

"Gandalf! _Anann chen ú-gennin_! [I have not seen you for a long time!]" she said, quickly crossing to him and hugging the old wizard. She looked down at the hobbit and knelt beside him.

"You must be Frodo Baggins. I am Lúthiel. Your friends were very worried about you. I do hope you made sure to let them know you are feeling better?" Frodo smiled at her and nodded.

"Nothing could keep them from my room, or so I am told," he said, then became serious. "Gandalf tells me that you and Strider led them safely here. I thank you, for I am sure they were all in such disbelief at this beautiful realm that they forgot to themselves. They are dear to me, like kin."

"You are most welcome Master Baggins. I only wish we had departed sooner. Had I been at Weathertop, I would have seen to it that no blade pierced your breast."

"It is no fault of yours Lúthiel." Gandalf said as they walked the open halls of Rivendell towards the Council circle.

"Still, I owe you a debt Frodo. Rangers are faithful and true, and when one of us swears a debt, it shall be repaid without question." Lúthiel said, patting his curly head. She liked the hobbits, having lived on the outskirts of the Shire since she could remember. They were hearty folk, and very merry.

"Thank you Lúthiel. You make me feel…well, very big." Frodo laughed and Lúthiel joined in.

They reached the terrace where the Council was to take place and Lúthiel took a deep breath. There was a certain etiquette to these things which Lotherias had gone over with her the night before. Women, if ever they attend a council, are to enter last so that all the men in attendance may stand to greet them. All eyes would be on her in mere moments, and Aragorn had not even wished her luck this morning. It did comfort her though, to know that Legolas would be there, and hopefully sitting closely.

When Gandalf and Frodo walked in, she knew she was next, and she exhaled finally.

Mustering her courage, Lúthiel drew herself up to her full height and slowly moved forward. She quickly scanned the faces there. Elrond was there, of course, and several others were seated in silence about him. She saw Glorfindel and Erestor seated on either side of him. There were more counselors, and among them an Elf from the Grey Havens called Galdor, on errand from Círdan the Shipwright. Legolas too sat amongst a group of golden-haired Elves—most likely also from Mirkwood—and then there were men of strange, dark dress Lúthiel had never seen.

One was younger than the rest, with dark hair and cool steel blue eyes. He wore riding boots and a heavy fur-lined cloak, as if he had just reached Imladris. His cloth, despite its wear and the mud, was rich. He wore a silver collar with a single white stone set within, and a horn tipped with silver lay upon his lap.

There were dwarves as well, a race of which Lúthiel had heard many a tale, but never laid eyes upon. The infamous Glóin sat amongst them with his son Gimli.

Finally, Elrond began to speak when the men all took their seats as Lúthiel sat.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old…you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will _unite_ or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom…" he paused and looked to Frodo, motioning for him to step forward.

"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo." he said.

Frodo looked quickly to Gandalf, who nodded, and then he stepped to the stone plinth in the middle of the Council circle. There, gently, he placed a small golden band. Lúthiel felt something inside of her stir at the sight of it, and forced herself to look away.

"So it's true…" whispered the young man from Gondor.

Frodo sat back down and sighed. Lúthiel gently pat his hand and gave him as encouraging a smile as she could muster. She looked to Legolas, who was eyeing the ring suspiciously, as though he too had felt what she had. Their eyes met briefly, and in them Lúthiel was able to read the same fear and worry that was in her own mind.

"In a dream," started the young man from Gondor. Lúthiel had not noticed him stand up, "I saw the Eastern sky grow dark…" he stepped closer to the ring.

"In the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying, 'your doom is near at hand…Isildur's bane is found,'" he again stepped towards the ring. Elrond and Gandalf exchanged worried glances. "Isildur's bane…" Finally, the man reached for the ring.

"Boromir!" Elrond thundered, jumping to his feet.

From her left Lúthiel noticed Gandalf stand, swiftly for a man his age, and he began to chant in a language that chilled Lúthiel to her very core.

"_Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul_!" Elrond was holding his head as if in pain, Boromir—the man from Gondor—had backed into his seat once Gandalf stood, and Aragorn was grimacing. Lúthiel looked down at Frodo, who seemed to be shaken to his very core, and frightened. She placed her hand on his and held onto it.

"Never before has anyone uttered words of that tongue here, in Imladris." Elrond said angrily.

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West." Gandalf answered, sounding tired. He turned to everyone, almost accusingly.

"The ring is all together evil!" he said, sitting down again. Boromir, the man from Gondor was shaking his head.

"Aye…it is a gift!" he said, standing up again, "A gift to the foes of Mordor! Why _not_ use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the bloodof _our_ people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy, let us use it against him!" Lúthiel's knuckles began to turn white as she clenched them at her sides.

"You cannot wield it. None of us can… The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master." Aragorn said. Lúthiel was thankful for his voice, and she looked across at him.

"And what would a _Ranger_ know of this matter?" Boromir sneered. Lúthiel had never wanted to hit someone more than she did in that moment, and she began to stand. Legolas, though, beat her too it.

"This is no mere Ranger! He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You _owe_ him your allegiance." Legolas said accusingly. Lúthiel looked up at him admiringly, and then looked over at Aragorn. How would he react to his secret being aired?

"Aragorn? This…is Isildur's heir?" Boromir asked.

"And heir to the throne of Gondor." Legolas added.

"_Havo dad, Legolas_. [Sit down, Legolas.]" Aragorn said softly. Lúthiel looked from one to the other. Boromir turned to Legolas with a sneer.

"Gondor has no King…" he said, sitting. His gaze then turned to Aragorn and he glared. "Gondor needs no King." he said. Lúthiel clenched her jaw and stood angrily.

"I wish to be heard by this council! For good or bad, I know not, but my dreams were filled with strange images this night past. And a poem… All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wonder are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost," then, her voice grew louder, prouder.

"From the ashes a fire shall be woken, a light from the shadow shall spring; renewed shall be blade that is broken…The crownless…again shall be King." she said, then sat back again, shaking.

"Thank you Lúthiel, that was quite lovely," Gandalf said pleasantly, then, "Aragorn is right, we cannot use it." Elrond stood slowly again and looked at those around him.

"You have only one choice. The ring must be destroyed."

One of the dwarves, Gimli, stood and seemed to growl, "Then what are we waiting for?" He advanced on the plinth and swung his axe at the ring, crashing it down on the trinket. The axe shattered and the dwarf was thrown backwards. Lúthiel stared, her mouth agape, at the ring, which was unscathed. Frodo was gripping his head as if in pain.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom, only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came…" Elrond said, looking about, "One of _you_…must do this." Lúthiel's eyes shot to Aragorn. She knew her Chieftain. She knew he would volunteer himself for the job.

For a moment, there was silence…then, Boromir sighed.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep, and the great eye is ever watchful. 'Tis a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this, it is folly." he said. Lúthiel was beginning to really dislike the man.

"Have you heard _nothing_ Lord Elrond has said? The ring must be destroyed!" Legolas said after jumping to his feet.

"And I supposed _you_ think you're the one to do it?" Gimli, the dwarf who'd tried to destroy the ring asked disdainfully.

"And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?" Boromir said, gaining volume as he stood yet again. Gimli jumped up.

"I will be dead before I see the ring in the hands of an Elf!" he snarled. Then, chaos erupted. The Elves jumped up to defend their Prince against the dwarf's sneers, but Legolas just held his hands out to try and quell their arguing against the dwarves. The men jumped up to be heard as well. The dwarves were all grumbling, and Gimli shouted,

"Never trust an Elf!"

Gandalf shook his head first, then stood to join the fray.

"Do you not understand that while we bicker amongst ourselves, Sauron's power grows?! None can escape it! You'll all be destroyed!" Gandalf bellowed. Frodo sat holding his head. Lúthiel watched the argument, remembering his promise to Aragorn, but hating that she'd made it.

"I must do something…" Lúthiel whispered, looking to Frodo, who was obviously in pain. As she was about to stand, she caught Aragorn's eye and saw his look of horror as she moved to stand.

"I will take it!"

Lúthiel turned to see Frodo had leapt up beside her. None could hear him above the argument.

"Silence!" Lúthiel bellowed, and the men all began to turn.

"I will take it!" Frodo shouted again. Gandalf shook his head in sorrow. "I will take the ring to Mordor. Though…I do not know the way." Frodo said. Lúthiel placed her hand on his shoulder.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." Gandalf said, walking to stand behind him. He too placed a hand on the small man's shoulder. Aragorn stood, having not taken part in the arguments, and walked over to kneel before Frodo.

"If by my life, or death, I can protect you, I will. You have my sword." he said.

"And you have my bow." Legolas added, walking over to join the growing group.

"And my axe!" spat Gimli, grimacing at Legolas as he too joined the others.

"I swore and oath to you, Frodo Baggins. I owe this to you at least. I too shall help you, in any way I can." Lúthiel said, looking from Frodo to Aragorn and Elrond, knowing that the two were exploding with rage, but could say nothing in the formal setting of the Council.

"You carry the fate of us all, little one," Boromir said, walking towards the group, "If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor shall see it done." His eyes went to Lúthiel, but she looked away so as not to glare at the man she found so vile, yet had known so shortly.

"Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me!" shouted Sam, bursting from the bushes and running to Frodo's side.

"I knew I heard something…" Legolas muttered. Lúthiel looked at him with a smile.

"No indeed. It is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are _not_." Elrond said.

"Wait! We're coming too!" Merry called, running out from behind some bushes with Pippin. Lúthiel chuckled under her breath, patting Frodo's shoulder.

"You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us." Merry said to Elrond, who stood looking rather astounded. Lúthiel snorted at the confused and undermined look on his face. She'd caused it numerous times before, and was well accustomed to it by now, but seeing someone so small put it on his face made her laugh.

"Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission…quest…thing!" Pippin said. Lúthiel looked over at Legolas, who was also failing to hide his smile.

"Well that rules you out, Pip." Merry murmured to his friend.

"So be it," Elrond sighed, then with enthusiasm added, "You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"

"Great! Where are we going?" Pippin asked. Lúthiel had to laugh at that, but as her eyes locked with Elrond's, she knew she was about to receive a very lengthy lecture.

"I thank you all for your attendance. As this meeting took place so early, I have had prepared for you all a grand breakfast in the dining hall. Glorfindel, would you lead our guests to their breakfast please? I need a word with Lúthiel…" he added. Lúthiel cringed. A hand patted her own and she looked down to see Frodo smiling up at her.

"You didn't have to do that, my lady. Between Gandalf and Str—Aragorn, I believe we're well looked-after. Now you've gone and gotten yourself in trouble with your care-taker."

"Though I am loathe to say it, being in trouble is nothing new to me Frodo Baggins. And please, you needn't call me lady. I'm just a ranger in a dress." Lúthiel said smiling. She gripped his hand in hers for a moment, then rose to meet the accusing glares of both Aragorn and Lord Elrond.

The other members of the Council all flooded out after Glorfindel, but Legolas lingered a moment.

"Lord Elrond, if it helps Lúthiel's cause, I can personally attest to both her strength of character and her skill as a warrior. She bested me twice yesterday with the sword, and her skill with the bow is nothing to be scoffed at." Legolas said, placing his right hand over his heart. It was a high compliment to see such a skilled fighter swearing her skill to Lord Elrond.

"I thank you, Legolas, for your kind words…but Lúthiel and I have much to discuss. If you will excuse us," Elrond said and bowed, Legolas bowing to him in turn.

Elrond put his arm out for Lúthiel and she sighed, taking it, for it would be insulting not to. The two walked briskly to his chambers, Aragorn in tow. When they reached the chambers, Aragorn shut the door and Lúthiel sat in the chair she usually sat in when being scolded by Lord Elrond.

"You deliberately disobeyed me, Lúthiel! What were you thinking? You swore to me that you would say _nothing_ at the Council, and yet, your sword is sworn to a cause far too dangerous for you to embark on!" Aragorn started in on her, which was far worse, in her opinion, than Lord Elrond.

"Is this cause not too dangerous for Frodo, and for Sam, and Merry and Pippin? Yet you accepted their pledges, Lord Elrond. I am far more experienced in battle than they are. If anything, I am an asset to this quest! Instead of five skilled fighters to four child-like halflings, let the number be six! That is one guard to each hobbit, and two extra as well. Much better odds in a battle, you cannot argue against that." Lúthiel said, appealing to Aragorn and Lord Elrond.

"Silence, Lúthiel…please. I must think a moment." Lord Elrond said wearily.

"You cannot seriously be considering allowing her to go, my Lord!" Aragorn asked incredulously.

"_Dína!_ [Be silent!]" Lord Elrond barked. Aragorn clenched his jaw and looked at Lúthiel, shaking his head. _I should never have taken her to Halbarad. If she had been raised in Imladris, she would not be so headstrong… _Even as he thought it, Aragorn knew it was a lie. Lúthiel was his daughter, and Arwen's daughter. She could have been raised by anyone, anywhere, and she'd still be the same headstrong young woman she was.

"I know I promised not to speak, but you did not see Frodo's face…" Lúthiel said softly. Both Elrond and Aragorn looked at her, confused. "He is scared, terrified of the ring. Taking it into the heart of Mordor is the last thing he wants to do, but the hobbits are peace-loving. Given the chance to stop the argument today, Frodo took it…before I could. I will not be dissuaded from my decision. I will not allow Frodo to undertake this alone…no matter what either of you say." Lúthiel said passionately.

"Oh let her come along. She's better conversation than most, and I hear her sword arm is as strong as any man's."

Lúthiel, Aragorn, and Elrond all turned to see Gandalf sitting by the openings that served as windows in the stone chamber. He looked as though he'd been there the whole time.

"She's a Dúnedain Ranger, not some frilly Elven Princess. You both seem to forget that." Lúthiel smiled, always appreciative of Gandalf's voice in an argument.

"That is not the point, Gandalf. Lúthiel is here to study, to learn." said Elrond.

"She's here because Halbarad wanted her close to her family, and that's the only reason. She's coming with us, and it's final. If you wish to argue anymore, I'll be in my chambers." Gandalf said, rising and lighting his pipe.

Lúthiel stared after him and then looked at an enraged Elrond. Aragorn was speechless, also looking to Elrond.

"Come Lúthiel, Aragorn, let us leave Lord Elrond to his thoughts." Gandalf said, exiting as though he owned the place. Lúthiel decided it would be best to follow him and not say a word. Aragorn slowly followed suit, and the group walked down the corridor together.

"Now, I believe there is a feast waiting for you both. I shall see you later. Goodbye." Gandalf said flippantly, continuing onto his chambers. Lúthiel and Aragorn were left alone in the corridor, both still confused about what had just taken place.

"He's a very grumpy old wizard is he not?" Lúthiel said, leaning against a stone pillar.

"I cannot protect you, Lúthiel." Aragorn said softly. She turned to him with her brow furrowed.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean when we leave here, to destroy the ring. I cannot protect you, understand?"

"I do not need your protection Aragorn. I am quite capable of taking care of myself. If you'll excuse me,"

"Lúthiel stop! You are being an impetuous child, stamping about to get your way! Do you realize you could be _killed_?"

"I don't care!" Lúthiel yelled back at Aragorn, throwing her hands out.

"I vowed to protect that hobbit, and I vowed to protect my _Chieftain_. If that means I have to disobey him to do so, then so be it. You are the true King of Gondor, Aragorn; and I will see the throne restored. If I have to die to see you safely return from this journey, so be it…" Lúthiel sighed and walked into the dining hall, greeted joyfully by the hobbits.

_What am I going to do…_ Aragorn thought.

Lúthiel sighed as she rested her arms on the stone terrace, looking out over the waterfall. After the Council and subsequent banquet, she had changed into her care-worn breeches and tunic again.

"Quite beautiful isn't it?" a voice asked from her left. She turned to see Boromir, the man from Gondor, also enjoying the waterfall.

"Yes." she answered shortly.

"I am Boromir, Captain of Gondor."

"Yes, I know who you are." Lúthiel said again, then began to turn away.

"Have I transgressed against thee, my lady? If so, tell me how so that I might right it straight away." Boromir said pleasantly.

"You, sir, spat on the name of the Dúnedain with your tone this day. You insulted the rightful King of Gondor, and those who follow him unquestioningly. No, you did not transgress against me solely, but against all that I stand and fight for. Good day, sir." she said, and turned again.

This time, Boromir caught her arm in his hand, gently.

"Please…Lúthiel, right? I meant no harm to you or yours…or Aragorn truly. Please, will you not listen?" he asked imploringly. Lúthiel looked over her shoulder at him and nodded once.

"My father is the Steward of Gondor, you must understand. I grew up not knowing _why_ he could never be King, even though there was none to sit on the throne. And today, it was as if my world crashed down around me. A ranger from the North, someone I've never met before in my life, is the supposed heir to the throne my father has guarded for years. I dare say that if you were in a similar situation, you would lash out as well." Boromir argued his case well, and Lúthiel found herself thinking that perhaps he was not as deplorably unpleasant as she'd first thought.

"I have no family," Lúthiel began, "I am told by Lord Elrond that my mother was an Elf, though no one will tell me her name or where she lies. And none will even mention my father to me. I was delivered to Halbarad, Captain of the Dúnedain, when I was but three months old, by the Chieftain—Aragorn. He has seen to my safety, my well-being since I was a child. Can you not now understand why your words were like a knife in my side?"

"I do, lady. And so, I beg your pardon once more. If you can find it within yourself to forgive me, I would be pleased to count you amongst my friends on this journey…" Boromir extended his hand for her to take in friendship. She faltered a moment, then took it. Before she could retract it though, Boromir brought it to his lips and kissed it.

"Lúthiel?" Lúthiel turned to see Legolas there with a defensive look on his face.

"_Boe i dulu nín, mellon nín_? [Do you need help, my friend?]"

"_Im mae, Legolas_. I was just coming to find you, in fact. Would you mind a sparring session? [I am well, Legolas.]"

"Indeed. Please, allow me." Legolas said, still eying Boromir warily. He offered Lúthiel his arm as a gesture of friendship, but also to show Boromir that they were familiar with one another.

"Until we next meet then, Lúthiel." Boromir said, bowing slightly with a smirk.

"Indeed." Lúthiel answered, glad of the contact from Legolas's arm on hers.

In the clearing, Lúthiel was able to take out the morning's frustrations on the targets. Her bow sang with deadly accuracy, which surprised and impressed Legolas, who stood back and watched her silently. She was very much like her father; almost too much.

Legolas knew that the two had not spent very much time together all at once, but with this journey coming up he feared what similarities might come out, and who might take note of them. Lúthiel was already too loyal for her own good, but should she find out that Aragorn was not only her rightful King, but her father, not even death could pry her away from her duty to him.

"Legolas?" He looked up from his musings to see Lúthiel standing there with blood dripping down her hand.

"Lúthiel, what happened?"

"I tried to go too quickly…I've cut my hand." she said, cheeks flushed from exertion and embarrassment.

"Here, let me see it." Legolas said, quickly tearing a strip of cloth from his tunic. He poured some of the water from his water skin on the cloth and quickly cleaned the wound, assessing the damage.

"It is not too deep that you'll need stitches, but we'll have to get you to the Healing Hall." he said, intent on trying to wrap the wound gently. Lúthiel studied him as he went about the task of wrapping her bleeding hand. She hadn't lied when she told him the day before that he had been in her thoughts often in the past years. He had been the first Elf to show her kindness, and since then he'd been one of the only Elves to show her kindness.

He was handsome, but in a way much unlike the men she'd grown up around and been used to. They were rugged, and more oft than not, dirty. They were well built and large, more like bears than men. And here was Legolas, this thin, graceful Elf with the face that one of the Eldar would envy. He was gentle and kind, and…well, _pretty_.

"Lúthiel?" Legolas asked, looking into her eyes.

"I'm sorry…I think…perhaps the loss of blood went to my head…" she lied, flushing terribly.

"Shall I carry you to the Healing Hall?" Legolas asked in concern. Lúthiel's ears turned pink at the suggestion, and she shook her head.

"No, that's not necessary. I am able to walk." she said, taking a step forward. Legolas took her arm as though he feared she might fall at any moment, and quickly lead her to the Healing Hall.

"I really think I'll be alright, Legolas." Lúthiel said as they neared the Hall.

"I'm sure you do, but I'm your elder and your superior and you're going to listen to me when I tell you that you'll see one of the healers." he said with a little more snark than Lúthiel was used to hearing him use. She smirked, but hid it, and followed him forward.

When they reached the Hall, Legolas led her to a seat and saw to it that a healer looked at her hand immediately. Lotherias happened to be one of the healer's apprentice, and walked over to her friend.

"What did you do this time, Lúthiel?" she asked as she sat down with her bag and began to unwrap the bandage Legolas had applied. She quickly looked at the cloth of the bandage, seeing how rich it was, and then glanced at Legolas's tunic. She raised a brow at Lúthiel and began to clean the wound.

"Got a bit ahead of myself I'm afraid…" Lúthiel said as her friend cleaned and bandaged her hand meticulously.

"You do not need stitches, but you'll have to keep the bandage clean and dry. I shall come by your chamber tonight to change it. You should have to wear it for a few days before it heals fully. In that time, stick to dull training swords please."

"It was an arrow, not a sword." Lúthiel corrected her friend. Lotherias just sighed, shaking her head.

"My Lady Lotherias, I would ask that Lord Elrond not find out about this mishap, as it was no fault of Lúthiel's, but in fact mine. I believe I forget sometimes that not all can pull back my bow as I can. It would be a pity for Lord Elrond to see this as an excuse to keep Lúthiel from her pledge."

Lúthiel looked up at Legolas in awe as he lied bold-facedly to her dear friend. He was covering for her, again. He had met her once before, when she was so young, and knew next to nothing about her, and yet he was sticking his neck out for her again.

"Of course, my Lord. I shall leave her in your care, though I must advise against any further training today." Lotherias said, obviously catching the lie, but also wanting to cover for her friend. Lúthiel looked up and the flood of emotion and thanks in her eyes was clearly visible to her friend. Legolas gently took Lúthiel's arm and escorted her from the Healing Halls.

They walked in pleasant silence until they reached her chambers, where Legolas slowly let Lúthiel's arm loose. Lúthiel turned to look at him and felt the heat slowly rising in her ears and her cheeks.

"Legolas…"

"Yes little one?" he asked softly. Suddenly it was as if there were no other noises around them, which made Lúthiel even more nervous.

"No one…I mean…when I arrived here…" Lúthiel sighed, shaking her head, "I don't know what I'm trying to say."

"Just say what you feel, Lúthiel."

"I…I'm just so tired. Tired of trying to be the shy, dull Elf-maiden everyone here wants me to be for some reason. You have been the only Elf I've ever met that doesn't seem to want to change me, make me something I'm not. Even Lotherias wishes I would change, would act more like she does. I just…I want to thank you, Legolas," Lúthiel said, her cheeks blazing with embarrassment as her eyes watered, spilling over onto her cheeks. She quickly wiped her cheek and coughed, looking away as though trying to hide the tears.

"Lúthiel, if there is one thing in this changing time that you may be certain of, let it be my friendship. I will ever be a friend to you, ever have an ear in which you may spill your troubles, ever have arms with which to lift you up…if you wish." In answer, Lúthiel wrapped her arms around the Prince of Mirkwood and laid her head on his chest.

"_Hannon le, mellon nín. I mîr chîn gant e' nest nín._ [Thank you, my friend. I shall treasure your gift in my heart.]" she said softly.

"I shall let you rest now. It has been a long day." Legolas said, and without thinking, kissed the top of Lúthiel's head. When she didn't react badly, he gently tightened their embrace for a brief moment, then turned her around towards her door.

"_Bad. Sedh._ [Go. Rest.]" he told her, stopping at her doorway. He closed her door for her and listened for her to lie down, then turned and walked down the hallway with his brows furrowed.

_You're digging your own grave_…thought Legolas. _But Eru, she is beautiful…_


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: If you recognize it, I most likely didn't write it. Book and film verse. All credit to J.R.R. Tolkien. I only own my few OCs and Luthiel of course.**

Chapter 3~ Fellowship

(December 24, 3018 III)

In the two months that the Fellowship resided in Rivendell before their departure, Lúthiel spent much of her time bonding with the hobbits, a race she had long respected and admired for their hearty living. The four hobbits were amazed to hear that Dúnedain Rangers, descendants of Numenor, patrolled their borders and kept them safe, and had done for years. They were tickled into fits of laughter and tears when Lúthiel performed one of their drinking songs, amazed at how much she knew about their culture.

Lúthiel had spent much time with the Fellowship in the past months, learning about them and with them. Even Lord Boromir and she had spent time together whilst in Imladris. Lúthiel had been training alone in the forest one day when Boromir had come upon her. She'd been so intent on her training that she hadn't heard him approach, and when he made his presence known she had lashed out. He drew his sword so quickly that Lúthiel thought he must have had it out the entire time, but she soon learned that she had seen correctly; that Boromir was a fearsome warrior. It was only later that evening that she learned from Gandalf that Boromir was said to be the most formidable mortal warrior in the whole of Middle Earth.

Since that day the two spent at least an hour a day training together. Though conversation came hard for the pair, their sparring sessions were always passionate. Boromir was constantly surprised at Lúthiel's level of skill, 'for a woman' he would say. More oft than not after such words, he would find himself either in a puddle of mud or being thrown into the trunk of a tree. Both came away bruised and bloody each day. Lord Elrond did not approve of Lúthiel sparring along with Boromir in the forest, but it was Aragorn that somehow changed his view on the subject.

Lúthiel enjoyed her time training with Boromir and singing with the hobbits, but her favorite past-time was walking with Legolas in the woods of Imladris. They would track the deer and small game, competing to see who was more skilled, but never killing in the sanctuary of the Elven city. The two spent many hours lounging in trees together, a shared passion since their childhoods. Legolas had been amazed to see Lúthiel kick her shoes off the first time and scale one of the huge trees as though it were a stool to sit one's feet upon. He told her stories of his life and adventures, of the first War of the Ring, and she in turn told him all the tales she had ever read or heard told. The two became true friends.

The night before they were set to depart, Lord Elrond was to hold a ball for Fellowship. Lúthiel was being forced to attend as punishment for what Elrond was _still_ referring to as her "little show" at the council meeting. She'd been bathed and scrubbed and rubbed with perfume oils earlier in the afternoon, her hair had been tamed—though it had taken a full two hours. Part of her hair hung loose in its natural curls, but around the crown of her head was a braided circlet of her rich sable locks. The hand-maids that Lord Elrond had assigned to her had woven small white flowers into the braid.

Lord Elrond had sent a vast wardrobe of gowns from which she could choose, but none of them suited her. She was sitting on her bed staring at the beautiful gowns in a dressing robe when there was a knock at her door.

"Come in," she called, chin on her hands as she continued to stare into the wardrobe. The door opened and Legolas stepped in. When he saw she was just in a dressing robe, Legolas's cheeks colored and he looked down at the floor.

"Forgive me, I thought you would be…that is to say I assumed…perhaps I should just go." Legolas said nervously. Lúthiel threw her head back and barked a laugh.

"Legolas, I'm dressed in a robe, not running about naked, you need not be embarrassed!" she laughed. Legolas only blushed further and coughed.

"I came to give you this," he said, bringing his arms from behind him. In his hands was some sort of folded silk the color of the night sky.

"I brought this from Mirkwood, hoping that you would be here to receive it, and it would greatly please me it you wore it to the ball tonight." Legolas said, unfolding the gown.

It was an exquisite gown of the deepest azure chiffon Lúthiel had ever laid eyes upon. The material alone was astonishing, but then the cut was brilliant as well. There were short cap sleeves of midnight blue, and upon the sleeves were the only jewels on the beautifully simple gown. Thick pearls were embroidered on the caps, and strings of pearls hung from the hem of the sleeves and fell to her wrists all the way around. The bodice was where the gown looked most fitted, and everything fell from there in a river of midnight blue gossamer.

"Oh Legolas…I cannot accept this. It's far too beautiful for a simple Ranger to wear…"

"Nonsense, I want you to have it. Consider it an early birthday present. I doubt that the journey ahead of us will allow time for gifts…Please, you will hurt my feelings irrevocably if you deny it." Legolas said, finally smiling. Lúthiel took the gown in her hands and felt the soft silk between her fingers, her mouth agape with wonder.

"Legolas, this is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." she said.

"I have seen beauty that far surpasses it…" Legolas said, watching the wonder on her face and enjoying that he had put it there.

"I shall wait for you in the hall. I have asked Lord Elrond if I might escort you to the ball, and since he's so very busy, he gratefully acquiesced." Legolas said, showing himself out.

Lúthiel made sure the door was closed fully before throwing her robe off and gently pulling the gown on. She took great care not to tear or bunch the fabric, but found that even if she tried, it would not crease. Once she had donned the gown, she looked at herself in the mirror and her mouth fell open.

She looked like a Queen.

She looked like an Elven Queen.

The gown was fitted about her breasts but fell loosely from there down to her bare feet. She found there were two layers of fabric, one of fine midnight blue silk beneath that fell to her knees, and the layer of midnight gossamer over that, which fell to her feet. The dress gradually became sheerer, and she realized her feet were visible. She smiled.

Lúthiel began to slide her feet into a pair of delicate blue slippers embellished with jewels, then decided that her bare feet would be most fitting for the gown. Tonight, she did not feel she needed the care-worn dagger she always carried with her. She took one last look at herself in the mirror, then turned to go to the door.

Legolas was waiting there and when he looked at her, his jaw went slack and he inhaled sharply. Lúthiel blushed and tied her cloak around her neck, fastening it with the Silver Star brooch of the Grey Company.

"'_Law chîn síla sui Ithil._ [Your radiance shines like the moon.]" Lúthiel's blush deepened and she pulled her cloak a bit tighter around her.

"_Hannon le, mellon nín._" Lúthiel took Legolas's arm and let him lead her to the Great Hall where the ball was being held. They reached the Hall, but were stopped by Lotherias who stood waiting patiently for them.

"Lord Elrond wishes to acknowledge the Fellowship before the dancing begins. He bade me tell you both that you are to enter with the rest of the Fellowship at the front of the Hall." Lotherias took in Lúthiel's appearance and shook her head.

"I've never seen you shine so brightly, _mellon nín._" she said with a smile. Lúthiel smiled back and then Legolas walked her to where Lord Elrond would be waiting.

The rest of the Fellowship, hobbits included, stood in their finery awaiting their cue to enter from Lord Elrond. When the two neared them, Pippin turned and his eyes widened.

"Merry, would you look at that! Lúthiel looks like a _lady_!" he said aloud, amazed that the Ranger who had urged them on at a ruthless pace to reach Rivendell was wearing a gown so beautiful. His statement made all of the Fellowship turn to look at her. Aragorn's mouth fell open which made Lúthiel feel naked and self conscious.

"_Thîr vain chîn darn thulen. Im cen êl._ [Your beauty took my breath away. I see a star.]" Aragorn said, reaching his hands out for Lúthiel to take. She hesitantly placed her hands in his.

"_Hannon le, mellon nín_."

"Lady Lúthiel, what Pippin _meant_ to say was that you look very beautiful." Frodo said, bowing his head slightly. Lúthiel smiled and looked to the hobbits.

"I thank you, my friends. I am not used to such finery, but must admit this is much softer than any travelling leathers I own." she said, self-consciously pulling on one of the strings of pearls serving as her sleeve.

"Lord Elrond has decreed we enter the Hall in the order in which we pledged our service to the Fellowship, child. You are to enter after Gimli, son of Glóin." Gandalf said, always the grandfather of the group. Lúthiel gave the dwarf a smile and began to curtsy, when she tripped in her skirts. Before she could fall though, Boromir caught her gently and righted her.

"It seems you might be more comfortable in your travelling leathers after all, my lady." Boromir said with a slow smile. His hands were warm on her back and arm, much softer than Lúthiel would have imagined. They were large hands, protective hands.

"Thank you, lord Boromir…" Lúthiel said, righting herself again and stepping to her place in front of him. When the doors opened, Lúthiel tensed at the sight of the Hall full of Elves, none of whom had much love for her. Frodo walked forward, and those after him as well, until it was her turn to take those steps into the Hall.

"Lúthiel Lómelindi of the Dúnedain, ward of Lord Elrond of Rivendell." came the announcement and cue for her to enter. Lúthiel looked all around at the faces of the Elves and froze, unable to step forward. She felt all the names they called her stinging the back of her throat, all of the laughter at her expense burning behind her eyes, and she faltered. She took a step back, but found a body there.

Lúthiel looked back to see Boromir there with a hand held out to her.

"My lady," he said softly, his voice void of any of his standard sarcasm. Lúthiel exhaled as she placed her arm on his, and walked forth proudly with him as she heard the herald quickly announce Lord Boromir.

They reached the raised dais and Boromir took Lúthiel's hand in his to help her up the few steps. Though she did not think she needed his hand, she took it, and was glad of it. Boromir finally took his place at her side, their hands still brushing against each other, and he took a moment to appreciate the slight flush of Lúthiel's high cheeks. As Elrond said his piece about their valor and bravery, Boromir reached up and gentled a fallen flower from Lúthiel's shoulder. She blushed again, cursing herself for it, and allowed him a small smile as she watched him tuck the small white flower into the open button hole of his tunic.

"And to represent both men and Elves alike, my ward, Lúthiel Lómelindi, Dúnedain ranger, descendant of Numenor, member of The Grey Company." Lúthiel was taken aback at the applause, and by the cheers from the Rangers remaining in Imladris. Even Rommel was smiling up at her from the corner the men had taken up. Lotherias and her friends also clapped, though Lotherias was the only one smiling at her.

"Take a bow, girl," Boromir whispered, elbowing her lightly. Lúthiel gracefully curtsied, then saluted her fellow rangers, causing more of an uproar from their corner. Finally, Boromir was introduced before the company in the Great Hall, and the music began to play as those in attendance were seated and the food was brought forth.

The Fellowship sat on the dais, joined by Glorfindel, Erestor, and another hobbit named Bilbo Baggins. It was Bilbo that had found the ring in Gollum's cave. Lúthiel's place was between Gimli and Boromir again, and she found herself trying to engage Gimli in conversation so she would not have to look at Boromir. She did not like to blush, but tonight he seemed to draw the color to her cheeks every few minutes. She found it unpleasantly feminine, and drank a mug of hearty ale to make up for it.

"My lady," a voice to her left said. She turned to see Legolas standing behind her with his hand stretched out. "May I have the honor of a dance, if you have finished your supper of course?" Lúthiel paled and looked at the Elves dancing on the open floor.

"D-dance?" she looked up at Legolas pleadingly, "Legolas, I am not very good." she breathed, hoping he would hear over the music.

"Lúthiel, I will not let you be laughed at, I swear it." he said softly, knowing that was what stopped her from accepting. Hesitantly, Lúthiel placed her hand in Legolas's and nodded. He helped her to her feet and led her onto the dance floor, taking her hands in his to begin the dance.

They moved together and apart, together and apart in the elaborate dance, and Lúthiel found her face flushing as she nearly stumbled into her next partner. She managed her way back to Legolas though, and found that as she looked into his eyes, her feet seemed to do exactly as they should. When the dance ended, Legolas bowed to her, and she curtsied in turn.

"See, my lady, you are just as graceful as any here." he told her as he led her back to her seat. Before she could sit down though, Amnell, one of the Rangers close to Halbarad's age, asked for a dance.

The next few hours were a blur as Lúthiel danced with each Ranger there, Glorfindel and Erestor, Legolas twice more, Gandalf, and even Lord Elrond. The stuffy old Elf was quite light on his feet, and he told Lúthiel that he used to dance with his wife whenever there was music. There was an inherit sadness to Elrond that made Lúthiel sorry for the way she acted towards him sometimes. She knew he had lost his wife and a daughter somehow, and that his sons were rarely home.

Lúthiel went for some fresh air on one of the many stone terraces, when she found Boromir there.

"Oh, Boro—I mean, my Lord, I did not mean to intrude." she said, flustered from ale and dancing and his presence.

"You do not intrude, Lúthiel. I always enjoy your company." the Captain of Gondor replied. He had a chalice of wine in his hand and was looking out over the falls. "It's quite lovely here. I shall be loathe to leave it on the morrow."

"It is beautiful, but I fear I have stayed overlong here. My feet have grown soft, my hair long, and my senses dull. I shall be glad to be upon the land again, to track and run and hunt—"

"And fight?" Boromir asked darkly.

"If we must fight, we must fight. I swore an oath, to Frodo and to Aragorn. I will die before I see it sundered." Lúthiel started when she felt a hand on hers and looked down to see Boromir's hand on hers.

"You are brave, Lúthiel. And good and true. They will look to you for light on this quest. _I_ will look to you." he said. Lúthiel found she did not wish to draw her hand away from his.

"We leave on the morrow, and I do not know when I will have the chance to dance with a beautiful woman again. Would you honor me with one this night, my lady?" His tongue was silver, his voice like lazy thunder, and Lúthiel found herself nodding despite how tired her feet already were.

"The honor is mine, Boromir." she said as she let him lead her back to the dance floor. A strange tune she had never heard began to play, but Boromir smirked.

"It seems the musicians know some songs from my city."

"They might, but I do not." Lúthiel said, embarrassed. She was even more surprised when Boromir put his arm around her waist.

"You've never come across this dance, then?" he asked her. She shook her head, placing her hand against his chest. "No matter, just think of it as one of our sparring sessions. Move against me, yes." Boromir instructed as the dance began. He moved her hands to his shoulders, placing his on her waist, and as they moved Lúthiel stared into his striking eyes.

"This dance is very…personal." Lúthiel noted softly as Boromir spun her to face away from him, then pulled her back to the warmth of his arms again.

"It is called The Wedding Round. It is usually reserved for the bride and groom, showing how wherever they move, whichever way they go, they are connected and must return to one another." Boromir said as he lifted Lúthiel into the air as though she weighed nothing. Her face reddened as his hands found her waist again, and she was silent for the rest of the dance. The music skimmed over her flesh, raising goose-pimples over her arms and back. Boromir's eyes never left her, nor did his hands. Her skin was warm and soft under his hands, as though she radiated like the stars that lined her gown.

When finally the music stopped, Lúthiel was breathless, staring up at Boromir. It took mere seconds for her to realize they had been the only ones dancing to the music, and she parted from him without a second thought. As she walked back to their table, Lúthiel felt Boromir's gaze searing into the back of her neck.

"Lúthiel," Legolas's voice broke through the haze of her thought and made her start as she ran into him.

"Legolas, I am so sorry, I did not see you! Please, excuse me." she said, giving his arm a friendly squeeze.

"Are you…alright?" he asked softly, offering her a glass of water. She took it gratefully and drank deeply.

"I am fine, just thirsty."

"Lord Boromir did not…press his advantage?" Legolas asked hesitantly. Lúthiel stopped and looked up at him sharply.

"What are you insinuating, Legolas? That he _told_ the musicians to play that tune so that he may…'press his advantage' as you said?"

"Of course not," Legolas said, hurt and angry at her lashing out, "I was merely worried. I did not wish for what happened at the dance with Syleath to happen to you again. I was just trying to look out for you, Lúthiel."

"I am more than capable of looking out for myself, Legolas. You've no right to treat me like a child, and you have no right to judge Boromir." she answered with a tight jaw as she tried to leave the Hall. Legolas put his hand on her arm, but when she yanked away from his grasp, he remained where he was and did not follow her.

When Lotherias came over to him with a sad smile on her face, Legolas sighed.

"I have insulted her. I must right this wrong before the morrow." Legolas said with a nod. Lotherias placed her hand on his arm shyly and shook her head.

"No, you must not. Lúthiel is fire and ice, earth and air. At times she burns with a fury that is frightening to behold, at others she is as frigid to the point of pain. Then she may be as stubborn and steadfast as the tree that weathers the storm, or as flighty as a feather on the wind. Tonight she is the tree, and no amount of words or actions will move her. Be glad you did not bring out the flames, _Brannon nîn_. [My lord.]" she counseled softly.

Legolas smiled at Lotherias. She was a quiet youth, many years his junior, but there was a wisdom there that seemed to surpass his own. She had the look of the Elves of Imladris with her fair skin and grey eyes, but her hair was the color of fallen autumn leaves. She was a very pleasant maiden, all the more for being Lúthiel's friend.

"You have known her these last two years?" Legolas asked.

"I have, my Lord. On the morrow she will be aching to apologize to _you_. Trust me, leave her for the night."

"I thank you, Lady Lotherias. Please, call me Legolas. Would you care to dance?" Lotherias blushed and nodded, taking Legolas's offered hand as they walked out to the dance floor.

_You are a fool, Legolas. A damn fool. Lúthiel was raised by men, not Elves. Why should she choose you over someone like her? Damn fool…_

It was a cold and grey day, the East Wind was streaming through the bare branches of the trees, and seething in the dark pines on the hills. Ragged clouds hurried overhead, dark and low. It was in this grey feeling and fog that the Company made ready to set out. Elrond had counseled them to leave at dusk, and travel by night as often as they could, until they were far from Rivendell.

As evening began to set in, Lúthiel awoke to a knock on her door. Two hand-maidens brought in water for a bath while another lay a spread of food on her table. Lúthiel picked up the small porcelain teapot and poured some of the tea she loved so much into a delicate mug. She inhaled the floral scent gratefully and sadly, for she did not know the next time she would enjoy the tea she loved so well. It was the small things she would miss from her time in Imladris. As she broke her fast on cheese and fruit and bread, Lotherias entered her room and sent the hand-maidens away.

"_Mellon nín_…" she said softly. Lúthiel turned to her friend and saw the tears just behind her eyes. Lotherias was strong and would not cry in front of Lúthiel, she knew, but as soon as the Fellowship was gone she knew Lotherias would weep for her. Lúthiel reached out her hand for Lotherias to take and she embraced her like a sister.

"I am not going away forever, Lotherias. You know I'm too stubborn to be killed. It would please Lord Stuffy-breeches far too much." she said as she smoothed Lotherias's hair from her face. Lotherias sighed and stood, taking Lúthiel's hands in her own.

"You mustn't say such things, Lúthiel. Lord Elrond cares greatly for you."

"I know…I know…" Lúthiel sighed. Lotherias took a brush and motioned to the tub.

"Come, I'll bathe you today," the woman smiled. Lúthiel groaned, but let her friend pull her to the large stone tub.

"Oh, indulge me! I know not when I shall see you again. I cannot have you leaving my company in such a state." Lotherias said, trying to be cheerful. Lúthiel disrobed and lowered herself into the steaming water. She let Lotherias wash her long locks and then brush them. She let her rub scented oils onto her wrists and neck, and even allowed her to clean her nails. Lúthiel allowed Lotherias to braid two sections of her hair back from her ears in the same Elvish fashion that Legolas wore, knowing she would appreciate the freedom on her journey. As she worked, Lotherias and Lúthiel talked, trying to act as though it were any other day.

When there was nothing more Lotherias could clean and primp, Lúthiel got out of the tub and dried herself off. She turned to Lotherias and hugged her tightly so her friend would not see the sorrow and fear on her face.

"_Unad nuithatha i nîr e-guren nalú aderthad vîn, mellon nín._[Nothing will stop the weeping of my heart until our reunion, my friend.]" Lúthiel whispered, kissing Lotherias's forehead.

"_Harthon gerithach raid gelin ar velthin_. [I hope you will have paths green and golden.]" Lotherias said and kissed Lúthiel's cheeks before gripping her arm as she had seem Aragorn do. Lúthiel was glad her friend left so quickly after she saluted her in the fashion of the Dúnedain, for it brought to her eyes tears that she did not wish to be seen.

Lúthiel calmed herself and dressed in her traveling gear. She'd put away most of her Ranger clothing for her duration in Rivendell, and it made her heart sing to take it out now. As though performing a ritual, she slowly dressed in her black leather breeches and decided on such a long journey she should wear her heavy boots. She reached for a plain grey tunic first, then decided on one of the grey tunics that Lord Elrond had had embroidered for her. Up the front and along the neck and hem were small dark blue flowers, and though it was impractical to wear something so beautiful on such a long journey, she felt she needed to. She fastened the braided ties up the front and tucked it into her breeches. Over that she pulled a sleeveless grey leather jerkin that ended at her knees. The jerkin had sleeves that could be fastened onto it, which she rolled up and packed in her bag.

Lúthiel had painstakingly oiled her leather belt, and she tied it around her waist. She then slid her curved Elvish blade into the scabbard with reverence, enjoying the metallic sound of steel scraping case. She fastened the special holster made for her small throwing knives around one of her thighs and carefully tucked the knives into it. Next, she secured her long fighting blades to her back, checking that the crossed scabbard was firmly in place. Between the knives she set her quiver and tightened the belt to make sure it would not shift on their journey. She and Legolas had made the arrows together over the past two months, and they were fletched with the feathers of golden birds from the forest of Imladris. She pulled her bow over her back as well, tied her heavy dark grey cloak around her neck, and slipped her fingerless black gloves onto her hands. She reverently fastened the cloak with her Silver Star brooch, distinguishing her as one of the Grey Company.

Lastly, she turned to her bed to pick up her worn, aged dagger, only to find Aragorn standing there holding the knife. He was dressed nearly identically to Lúthiel, but he wore a heavy leather coat over his jerkin. As a mortal he felt cold, unlike Lúthiel. She smiled at him and took a deep breath.

"This has seen much use, I see." Aragorn said as he relinquished the knife and hilt to her. He watched as she tucked it into her boot and smiled.

"I had never gone a day without wearing it before I came to Imladris. It is a comfort to me." she said as she sat on the bed beside Aragorn. He sighed and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"I…I know not what to say to comfort you, Lúthiel. I have lead many a man into battle, given many a rallying cry, but I seem to have no words for you. I know that Halbarad has been like a father to you," he said slowly, "And I am sorry that he cannot be here to wish you well, or to drag you back to Buckland kicking and screaming, either one. I know you seek to protect me on this journey, but know that I seek to protect _you_, Lúthiel. You are…important…to me. Will you grant me a favor, little flower?" Aragorn used the name he had called her all those years ago on the day that he truly met his daughter for the first time.

"Of course, Aragorn." Lúthiel said, placing her hand over his on her shoulder.

"Do not put yourself in harm's way to guard me on this journey. I have a blade and am well versed in battle, where Frodo has little more than a knife and no battle experience at all, none of them do. You swore to protect us both, but I ask you put the hobbits before me. Can you do that?" Lúthiel cringed, but nodded.

"If it is your wish that I should guard the hobbits above all else, then I shall see it done." Aragorn awkwardly hugged his daughter and stood, shouldering his own bag as he took hers up too.

"Come, the hour grows late."

When they reached the Gates of Imladris, Lúthiel's eyes went to Boromir and they shared a smile. She then looked to Legolas, who's eyes were locked on her as well. She excused herself from Aragorn and went to Legolas sheepishly. They stepped away from the Fellowship, behind one of the pillars.

"Legolas…I…I was childish last night. I was angry that you brought Syleath up, and I took it out on you. Can you forgive me, my friend?" she asked, offering her arm to him. Without hesitation, Legolas took her arm in the Dúnedain's salute and cupped his other hand over hers.

"There is nothing to forgive, my friend. I was the boorish one. I would have gone to your chambers to apologize last night had Lotherias not advised against it." he answered with a small smile.

"Oh she did, did she?" Lúthiel smirked.

"_Thand_. She said you are like fire and ice and the earth and the wind. She is wise, your friend."

"That she is…" Lúthiel said, turning in the general direction of Lotherias's dwelling, "I shall miss her more than words can tell." Without thinking about it, Lúthiel fell into Legolas's chest and embraced him in the privacy behind the pillar. Legolas relaxed into the embrace and let his arms wrap around her frame.

"I am glad you will be with me on this journey, Legolas."

"As am I, Lúthiel," Legolas forced himself to pull away from Lúthiel and he gripped her arms lightly. "Come, let us join the others."

Elrond was speaking with Aragorn and Gandalf, and Lúthiel joined them.

"You should fear the many eyes of the servants of Sauron," he told them gravely. "I do not doubt the news of your journey will reach him soon, if it has not already. Soon now his spies on foot and wing will be abroad in the northern lands. Even of the sky above you must beware as you go on your way." He looked to Legolas and Lúthiel, and she knew he was speaking to them. They would be the Fellowship's first line of defense.

All were well furnished by Elrond with thick warm clothes, and they had jackets and cloaks lined with fur. Spare food and clothes and blankets and other needs were laden on Bill the pony, whom Sam had insisted come with them.

Elrond moved to stand before them all with a small company of his advisors, Glorfindel and Erestor. The ten companions stood united and awaited Lord Elrond's final words. He looked at the Fellowship and addressed them all with sadness in his eyes.

"The Ringbearer is setting out on a quest to Mount Doom and you who travel with him, no oath nor bond is laid to go further than you will. Farewell, hold to your purpose, and may the blessings of Elves, of men, and all free folk go with you. _Nai tiruvantel ar varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya_. [May the Valar protect you on your path under the sky.]"

Many others of Elrond's household stood in the shadows and watched them go, bidding them farewell with soft voices. At last the Company turned away and faded silently into the dusk. They crossed the bridge and wound slowly up the long steep paths that led out of the cloven vale of Rivendell; and they came at lengths to the high moor where the wind hissed through the heather. Then with one glance at the Last Homely House tinkling below them they strode away far into the night.


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: If you recognize it, I most likely didn't write it. Book and film verse. All credit to J.R.R. Tolkien. I only own my few OCs and Luthiel of course.**

Chapter 4~ Wolves

(January 5, 3019 III)

Lúthiel rolled over, fitful and pained in her slumber, and finally opened her eyes. There was no fire to warm the hobbits, so they were huddled together. Gimli had his cloak bundled about him, as did Gandalf and Aragorn. Legolas alone remained uncovered, despite the snow that fell. Lúthiel had still not gotten used to sleeping during the day, even in the darkness of their cave, and so was finding the going harder than any other journey she had been on.

Lúthiel felt another pang in her stomach and groaned, curling into a ball. She uncurled and stood to walk about, to ease the pain, and found Boromir was on watch at the mouth of the cave. She walked over to him, holding her side as she went.

"Good evening, or morning, or afternoon…whatever it is we are currently experiencing." she said as she sat beside him. It was hard to tell what time it was at all with the snow falling, though she didn't feel like she had slept much at all.

"To you as well. You were tossing and turning in your sleep. I must admit, I was hoping you would wake and join me." he answered, handing her the waterskin he held. She took a few swallows, happy to have clean water with all the fresh falling snow.

"That is terribly selfish of you, my Lord. However shall I go on this night with so little sleep?" she asked jokingly as she passed the skin back.

"I have two arms to carry you, sweet lady, whenever you have need of them." Boromir smirked. Lúthiel felt that blush creep into her cheeks again and she cursed the man for his charm.

"I suppose you think you're quite charming, my Lord." Lúthiel sighed as she stood. Boromir chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"If I do, you can only fault yourself. What else am I to make of your blushing?" When Lúthiel's eyes widened up at him, he laughed and slapped his knee.

"Ah, so it _is_ me for whom you blush!" Boromir said while laughing. Lúthiel glared at him and went to step outside the cave. "Oh, please Lúthiel, I was just joking. You needn't leave on my account." he said, his laughter slowly dying.

"If you must know, my _Lord_," she said haughtily, "I need to relieve myself. Am I allowed to do so?"

"You have my leave," Boromir answered, deepening his voice and saluting as though he were truly a guard and she part of a company. She shook her head at him as she walked out to make her water. She carefully looked around to make sure she was alone and that she would not give their position away to any onlookers, good or ill. Finally, Lúthiel found a secluded spot to relieve herself and dropped her breeches. She found it was later in the day than she had first thought, and knew they would need to be heading out again soon. When she stood again, Lúthiel groaned. Her moon's blood was on her.

Lúthiel inspected her smallclothes and decided she would need to change them and wash the ones she wore, or risk drawing Sauron's servants upon them all the quicker. She went back to the cave and found Boromir rousing the Fellowship to move on. She stood before them all and looked at their feet as her face flushed a mean red.

"Lúthiel, what's wrong?" Aragorn asked, worried.

"I suppose you'll all have to know, for we're to be journeying together for long months. My…my moon's blood came upon me while I slept. I shall need the privacy of the cave to change my smallclothes if you please, and I'll have to either clean or burn the ones I wear. I am sorry to inconvenience you." she said, growing redder with every word.

"Is that all? Out, you lot. Pippin, take one of the bowls and gather some fresh snow for Lúthiel to use. The rest of you, keep your distance," Gandalf said, patting Lúthiel's arm as he walked past. He stopped though and lifted her chin. "You are no inconvenience, Lúthiel. No more than my old bones or Sam's wondering mule."

"He's a pony!" Sam whined, leading Bill from the cave as well. Lúthiel's eyes darted from Legolas to Boromir to Aragorn, all of whom were trying to look away from her as they walked out, and her face turned a ghastly shade of red she'd never experienced before. Pippin brought over the bowl of fresh snow and reddened, then ran off out of the cave. Bill stood in the opening to the cave and Lúthiel heard Gimli start to argue with Gandalf over their route.

Lúthiel quickly undressed and changed her smallclothes. She placed a double layer of her thick ladies' cloths in the clean smallclothes, and donned her breeches again. After pulling her boots back on, Lúthiel carefully washed out the bloody smallclothes. When they were thoroughly cleansed, she wringed the water from them with cold, red hands and bundled them back into her pack of spare clothing. She exited the cave and repositioned her pack on Bill's back before finally facing her companions.

"Well, what are you all standing around for?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Gandalf barked a laugh as he led them on through their next night of traveling. It was full dark when Lúthiel felt a creeping feeling at the back of her neck.

"Legolas," she whispered, looking ahead of her to find him in the night. He turned and locked eyes with her and nodded.

"I feel it to. Something is coming." he whispered, so only Lúthiel could hear. They had passed the borders of Hollin and were well on their way to the Gap of Rohan now, and the lack of enemy intrusions had only caused them to be more on edge of late.

Guided by Aragorn they struck a good path. It looked to Lúthiel like the remains of an ancient road, that had once been broad and well planned, from Hollin to the mountain-pass. The moon, not at the full, rose over the mountains, and cast a pale light in which the shadows of stones were black. Many of them looked to have been worked by hands, though now they lay tumbled and ruinous in a bleak, barren land.

It was the cold chill hour before the first stir of dawn that Lúthiel felt them. She saw Frodo and Legolas ahead of her look up to the sky. Suddenly, she saw a shadow pass over the high stars, as if for a moment they faded and then flashed out again. She shivered.

"Did you see anything pass over?" Frodo whispered to Gandalf who was just ahead of them. Legolas turned to her and she nodded, still shivering from the chill the shadow had caused.

"No, but I felt it, whatever it was," Gandalf answered, "It may be nothing, just a wisp of cloud." Gandalf lied to Frodo, Lúthiel knew, to see that he was not afraid.

"It was moving fast then," muttered Aragorn, "And against the wind…"

Legolas halted and moved to stand beside Lúthiel.

"Birds, I'm sure of it, or bats." she whispered.

"_Crebain_, from Dunland. I must tell Gandalf," he said, squeezing her arm before moving forward and whispering with Gandalf.

"Dark whispers in the night," Boromir said from her side, and 'tsk'd, "Not promising." Lúthiel fell in step with him and found herself huddling near him, despite feeling no frost.

"Crows out of Dunland. Our path is being watched. Luckily they passed at night. I know not if they saw us, but we shall see soon enough." she said darkly, shivering again. When Boromir put his arm around her she blushed, and was glad for the cover of night.

"May I offer you my cloak, Lúthiel?" he asked seriously. Lúthiel smiled and shook her head.

"I thank you, my friend, but it is not for the cold that I shiver."

"I understand…" was all he said. Lúthiel noted he did not withdraw his arm though, and found that she was comforted by the large limb surrounding her. Lúthiel was tall for her age and for a female, but Boromir towered over her by half a foot or more. He had been able to tuck her head under his chin when they danced.

Thinking of their dance, their closeness, Lúthiel moved even closer to him, and felt him look down at her and smirk. He tightened his arm around her and puffed his chest out, making Lúthiel smile into the silence. The company travelled on in silence, Legolas leading now beside Aragorn, for one could see in the darkness and the other knew the land they travelled, even in the darkness.

When the sun slowly began to peak over the horizon, the company had reached the base of the Caradhras and were all too happy to rest for a while. Lúthiel knew she needed to change her ladies' cloth, and excused herself to do so. She found an outcropping of rock and hurriedly stripped off her boots and breeches before removing her smallclothes and ladies' cloth. She replaced the cloths and carefully washed the ones she'd been wearing previously with fresh snow.

As Lúthiel was kneeling over the bloody cloths, a feeling of being watched came over her and she stopped. Though there were far more trees on the other side of the Mist Mountains near Mirkwood and Lorien, there was a small wooded area near where the company was camped. Lúthiel felt eyes on her and dropped her dirty cloths, drawing an arrow and pulling her bow from her back.

"Lúthiel?" she heard Legolas near the camp and knew he had heard her drawing her weapon.

"Something is watching us. Stay with the others. Do not frighten the hobbits though," she whispered, carefully stepping onto the crust of snow with her bare feet, "I will see what is ahead."

"Lúthiel, you cannot go on your own." Legolas's voice was little more than a whisper on the wind, but Lúthiel's Elven senses were keen and she heard him.

"I will scout ahead, and you will stay with the others." she whispered back to him, still moving silently forward. She was not as light of foot as Legolas or any other Elf would be, but she was able to remain nearly silent as her bare feet moved her over the blanket of white. There was no answer from Legolas, and Lúthiel moved on with her arrow at the ready.

Lúthiel neared the trees and the sense of something watching her became stronger and stronger, and the hairs on her arms began to stand up. The wind picked up and Lúthiel cursed silently when she realized she was no longer downwind of whatever was in the trees. Suddenly, dark forms burst forth from the trees and Lúthiel did not take pause to see what they were.

Lúthiel turned to rush back to the camp, shooting arrows over her shoulders. She heard yelps as the arrows hit home, but did not take time to turn and look.

"Lúthiel?" she heard Legolas yell, and she looked before her to see him with his bow out as well.

"I think I found what was following!" she shouted, spinning to shoot another arrow as Legolas loosed three. She ran past Legolas and he covered her back as she made her stand in front of the camp.

"What has happened, Lúthiel?" Aragorn asked, drawing his blade. She heard the sound of steel scraping steel as the Fellowship drew their weapons. A fog set in and Lúthiel, for once, felt the cold.

"Wolves. A pack, twenty, maybe more."

"Let them come! Let them meet my axe!" Gimli grumbled as he widened his stance, holding his axe. Legolas ran back to them and tossed Lúthiel's boots at her feet.

"You forgot something," he said tightly, drawing his bow again.

"I didn't forget, I simply enjoy having a big strong man carry my things for me." she said sarcastically, drawing her bowstring back to her jaw.

"Children, children, now is not the time." Gandalf muttered, Glamdring shining in his hands.

"W-were they big wolves, Lúthiel?" Sam mumbled, his hands shaking as he held his small blade.

"Not so big as you, Brave Samwise. You need not worry," Lúthiel lied, listening to the silence as the fog enclosed them in its cold, dark embrace.

The wolves broke through the fog, snarling and slavering, their deadly fangs barred, but they did not seem to draw close enough to the Fellowship to be felled. Luthiel drew the long-knives off her back and stood like a stone in the ring they had formed around the hobbits. It seemed that the hobbits themselves had formed their own barrier around Frodo, clearly knowing he was their hope in this venture.

"Listen, Hounds of Sauron! Gandalf is here! Fly, if you value your foul skin!" Gandalf bellowed, "I will shrivel you from tail to snout if you come within this ring!"

One wolf snarled and sprang forth, but was met by the resounding twang of Legolas's bow as the arrow pierced the foul beast's throat. There was a hideous yell, and the great body thudded to the ground. Suddenly, the watching eyes were extinguished and the noise of the wolves seemed to disappear.

"Legolas?" Aragorn asked, low in his throat. Lúthiel was trying to see through the fog, but as the mist dissolved, she could see no further sign of the wolves.

"They have gone, or at the very least, they have hidden from even my sight." Legolas answered, finally lowering his bow. Lúthiel took a step towards where the wolf's body had landed, but Gandalf slapped her across the legs with his staff.

"Make no move, Lúthiel. That beast is not of nature," he said, pointing with his staff, "Look." Lúthiel looked to where the body should have rested, and saw nothing but Legolas's bloody arrow.

"We should not rest this day. The beasts could still be near," Boromir said as he sheathed his great longsword.

"I agree with Boromir. We must continue on," Lúthiel said, pulling her boots back on her bare feet. She heard no answer and looked up to see Aragorn, Legolas, and Boromir all glowering down at her.

"Yes?" she asked, raising a brow.

"What were you thinking, Lúthiel? What if the armies of Sauron had been in those trees? Had Legolas not gone to retrieve you, those beasts would have ripped your throat out." Aragorn said angrily. His grey eyes smoldered like still-burning coals, and Lúthiel felt suddenly like a child being scolded.

"I was thinking that I am part of the Fellowship, and perfectly capable of taking care of myself." she answered, standing angrily. Gimli, Gandalf, and the Hobbits tried to look busy as they sheathed their weapons and readied their small campsite to move on.

"You are too reckless, Lúthiel," Legolas said.

"Even green boys know not to seek danger alone, Lúthiel. If you had been injured…" Boromir did not finish his statement, but looked away angrily.

"By rights I should tie you to Bill and send you back to Rivendell!" Aragorn reproached. Lúthiel clenched her jaw and stared down the men before her.

"Elrond named me a member of this Company, none of you can dispute that. And when last I checked, _none_ of you were my father. If you have further admonishments for me, save them, for we must travel on." Lúthiel spat, sheathing her knives.

They travelled through the morning and well into the afternoon with Lúthiel leading them on at a brutal pace, before the angry Ranger allowed them to stop and rest. Gandalf suggested a fire might ward off the return of any unsavory beasts, and Lúthiel agreed. Lúthiel sat away from the others, the hood of her dark grey cloak raised against the biting wind on Caradhras, and silently chewed some dried beef. When she heard someone approaching from behind, her shoulders tensed.

"My Lady," Frodo said from her side. Lúthiel turned and found a smile blooming on her face. Frodo held out a small cup of steaming liquid to her with a smile.

"It isn't much, just some hot water with bits of that dried beef in it, but Sam added some salt and some herbs from the Shire to it. I thought you might like some." he said, handing her the cup. Lúthiel smiled and gratefully sipped the hot liquid. It wasn't quite broth, but it was the first warm nourishment they'd had in weeks.

"Thank you Frodo. Tell me my friend, how do you fare?" she asked, slowly sipping from her cup. Frodo tried to hide how his face fell with another smile, but Lúthiel was too observant.

"I am weary, but my friends keep my spirits high, my Lady."

"I am glad that you can find comfort in your companions." Lúthiel answered, venturing a glance behind her at the rest of the Fellowship. She looked back when Frodo placed his small hand on hers.

"I thought what you did was very brave, Lúthiel. I have little strength in arms, and would not know how to defend myself or my friends. You have my thanks," he said, patting her hand as he walked back to the others. Lúthiel sighed, downing the rest of her broth, and she closed her eyes against the wind.

"Legolas has drawn first watch for today. We have been walking all night, you should try to get some sleep." Aragorn said, crouching beside her. Lúthiel looked over at him, her mouth drawn into a tight line.

"I assure you that I shall be fine, _Chieftain_. There is a spring over to the east a ways. I will refill our waterskins." she said, standing and slipping past him. Aragorn grabbed his daughter's arm and halted her. She turned to look him in the eyes, her gaze almost as cold as the wind that stung their cheeks.

"I may not be your father," he lied bitterly, "but I do know that you are acting like a child. What you did was truly dangerous, Lúthiel, and if you're too stubborn to see that, then you're not the Ranger I thought you were." Aragorn rebuked his daughter in a way he knew would shame her and let her arm go as he pushed past her again to go back to the camp.

Lúthiel glared after Aragorn and stormed off towards the spring she had heard before. When she reached the small spring, she realized she had left the waterskins behind, but decided against having to go back and retrieve them—and face Aragorn after he had rebuked her so. She huffed angrily as she kicked her boots off and stripped down to nothing, keeping her weapons at the edge of the pool should anything transpire. She dove into the spring and found it pleasantly cool, though she knew it would freeze the mortal members of the Fellowship.

Lúthiel carefully washed her ladies' cloths free of blood, then used the cloths to scrub her thighs free of the dried blood there. Her moon's blood had never troubled her much before and had not even crossed her mind when they left from Imladris. She had heard tales of women whose blood stopped during times of great stress or travel, and had been hoping that would happen to her own body. She knew of teas that could bring on a woman's moon blood, after a night's pleasure led to a full womb, but had never heard of a tea to stop the flow from happening.

As Lúthiel cleansed herself, she hummed. She realized that she was humming The Wedding Round, the song that she and Boromir had danced to so long ago, or so it seemed. She smiled and went under the water, scrubbing at her scalp with the cold water, dislodging all the dirt and grime from their travels. When she broke the surface again, Boromir was standing there smirking.

"Boromir!" Lúthiel gasped, bending to hide her body beneath the water's surface. Boromir's grin turned sheepish and his face colored quickly as he scratched his head.

"I…uh…I thought you were…the waterskins…and then…and you're…" he stuttered.

"Turn around!" Lúthiel yelled at him, covering her breasts. Boromir stumbled around, turning his back to her, but the damage had already been done. The water Lúthiel had been trying to hide in was the clearest he'd ever seen. He heard Lúthiel crawl out of the pool and the sound of fabric as she began to dress again, but all he could think about was how she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen before.

"Lúthiel, I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were…Aragorn said that you were filling the waterskins and…" Boromir trailed off and shook his head.

"Did you enjoy the view?" Lúthiel huffed, strapping her various weapons back on.

"What?" Boromir balked and spun around. Luckily Lúthiel was fully dressed again, her dark hair hanging in a heavy, wet rope down her back. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her cheeks were flaring red, but her grey eyes were cold and steely.

"I asked, my Lord, if you enjoyed the view."

"Lúthiel, you cannot think I _meant_ for this to happen. I was simply trying to help you with the waterskins!" Boromir said, shaking the waterskins at her. Lúthiel suddenly broke into a laugh and shook her head.

"I'm sorry, but you should have seen your face." she laughed, holding her sides. Boromir frowned at her moodily.

"That was unkind, Lúthiel. I thought I had truly angered you."

"Boromir, I was raised by a man in a whole company of men. That is not the first time a man has seen me naked, but I must say, you have much more grace than the Rangers in my age group did." Lúthiel took the waterskins and began to fill them in the trickle of water above the pool.

"Perhaps someday I shall repay the favor," Boromir said, smirking again. Lúthiel chuckled and handed him the full skin.

"I doubt you'd enjoy such a frigid bath. I've heard tell men dislike such…cold climates." Lúthiel teased. Boromir looked at her, shocked, and closed the waterskin before taking another from her.

"By Elbereth girl, but you are feisty."

"I was raised by Rangers, you all seem to forget that fact. I've heard more bawdy songs and dirty japes than most. I can handle myself around men. I can handle myself when in peril as well." Lúthiel said as she filled the waterskins.

"I am sorry, Lúthiel. I just…I did not wish to see you harmed. I've become rather accustomed to your presence and would be quite distraught without you." Boromir answered, capping the skins Lúthiel handed him.

"That is kind to say, but I am more than capable of putting down a wild dog, even one belonging to the Dark Lord." Lúthiel said, and handed the last of the skins to him. When the waterskins were all full, the two divided them and made back for the camp.

"Now, what of these bawdy songs you mentioned before?" Boromir asked. Lúthiel threw her head back and laughed loudly.

"I have a favorite. Tell me, do you know 'The Good Ship Venus' by any chance?" The look on Boromir's face only made Lúthiel laugh so hard she nearly dropped her waterskins.

Aragorn coaxed the coals into a fitting fire and the hobbits, being hearty folk as they were, set to fashioning a supper for them all. Gandalf was smoking his pipe and staring up at Caradhras whilst Gimli and Legolas unrolled the bedrolls for the day's rest. When Legolas stood suddenly Aragorn turned to him to find his face aghast with something akin to terror.

"Legolas, what is it? The wolves again?" he asked, drawing his sword.

"Worse," Legolas answered, running his hand over his face. "Much, much worse."

From up the path where Lúthiel and Boromir had disappeared came the strands of a song. It took Aragorn a moment to recognize it, but when he did, his eyes nearly fell out of his head.

"The third mate's name was Morgan, by Elbereth he was a gorgon. From half past eight, he played til late, upon the Captain's organ!"

"The Captain's wife was Mabel," Lúthiel began, and Aragorn nearly choked on his own tongue. "And by Eru was she able! To give the crew their daily screw, upon the galley table!"

"The Captain's daughter Charlotte," they both crooned together. "Was born and bred a harlot! Her thighs at night, were lily white, by morning they were scarlet!"

"I think that's quite enough," Aragorn said, his face red, "Or do you wish to bring the whole bloody mountain down upon us?" Boromir and Lúthiel looked sheepishly at one another and tried not to chuckle. "Thank you ever so much for teaching my Ranger such a chaste song, Lord Boromir," he added sarcastically.

"I would not be too hasty, my friend, for t'was Lúthiel that cleared up a few verses for me." Boromir answered with a smirk. Lúthiel had never seen Aragorn so red, and was clenching her jaw so tight it was painful, so as not to laugh aloud.

"I think I know the conversation I will next have with my old friend Halbarad," Aragorn muttered, going back to the fire. Lúthiel snorted, but covered her mouth and tried to stop herself.

"I didn't know ladies sang such songs, did you Pip?" Merry asked jovially. Lúthiel chuckled and tossed their waterskins to them.

"But remember Merry, Lúthiel's not a lady, she's a Ranger." Pippin answered.

"Ah, Peregrin Took, I could kiss you! You seem to be the only one here that remembers that!" she said, swinging the small hobbit into an embrace. The hobbits all laughed.

"Alright, alright, stop your howling now! You might not bring the mountain down, but I have little faith that those wolves are truly gone," Gandalf harrumphed, and the Fellowship listened without question. "You should get some sleep before we set out again, though I think traveling at night in this snow would be foolish. We shall let the sun light our way from here on." And that was an end to it. With that, Gandalf set his pipe aside and seemed to fall into a waking slumber.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: If you recognize it, I most likely didn't write it. Book and film verse. All credit to J.R.R. Tolkien. I only own my few OCs and Luthiel of course.**

Chapter 5~ Moria

(January 13, 3019 III)

The morning was passing towards noon, and still the Company wandered and scrambled through a barren country of dark stones. It had been two days past that they encountered the dark spell upon Caradhras that drove them now to the depths of the mountain, to the Mines of Moria. Lúthiel had been loath to venture so low, so far from the sky, but when Frodo had chosen the way she ceased her argument.

Since they reached the entrance to the stairs that would lead them to the Gates, Gimli had not stopped regaling them with tales of his Mine-dwelling kin. Lúthiel had become quiet the deeper they journeyed, and she noticed that Legolas too was ill at east so deep.

"Ah," Gimli gasped, drawing Lúthiel from her silence, "The Wall of Moria!" the dwarf said reverently. He began tapping the stone walls with his axe, and Lúthiel noted how Legolas's jaw was clenched tightly.

"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed," Gimli said in way of explanation, tapping as he went.

"Yes Gimli! Their own masters cannot find them, if their secrets are forgotten." Gandalf answered amicably enough.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Legolas muttered. Soon, they came upon a dark lake. Lúthiel did not know why, but looking upon the water made her feel cold and frightened. She bent as though to tighten the laces of her boots, but reached inside to grab the care-worn dagger within. She knew it was childish, but it comforted her.

"What is that?" she heard Boromir ask from behind her. She started and dropped the knife, but quickly picked it up and held it to her chest.

"Nothing," she lied. Boromir gave her a reproachful look and she sighed, showing him her most treasured possession.

"This is from Gondor. It is called a _Cyllel-Mab_, given from father to son. Where did you get this?" Boromir asked, truly interested. Lúthiel looked from the knife to Aragorn and her eyes softened. _From father to son_… That Aragorn saw her as a son warmed her heart and chilled it at the same time. She was no son, which meant she could never make him proud enough.

"It was a gift," Lúthiel told Boromir, taking the knife back and tucking it into her boot again. She suddenly did not need its warmth, for her heart sang with the warmth of knowing her Chieftain cared for her.

"Now let me see…" Gandalf muttered, touching the wall before them. "Ithildin…It mirrors only starlight…and moonlight…" he murmured, rubbing the stone. As the clouds moved and the moon peeked through, the doors were illuminated, and Lúthiel gasped.

"There are the emblems of Durin!" cried Gimli.

"And there is the Tree of the High Elves," said Legolas.

"And the Star of the House of Fëanor," said Gandalf. "They are wrought of _ithildin_, which mirrors only starling and moonlight, and touched by one who speaks words now long forgotten in Middle-Earth." The old wizard took a moment of pride in his work, then coughed and leaned closer to the wall.

"It reads, 'The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria, speak Friend and enter.'" he said.

"What do you suppose that means?" Merry asked, scratching his head.

"Oh it's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open!" He turned back to the door and held his staff against the star in the center of it. "_Annon Edhellen, edro hi ammen_! [Gate of the Elves, open now for me!]"

Pippin grinned widely, expecting fireworks, but nothing happened. Gandalf cleared his throat and looked confused, but then he held up both his hands and bellowed, "_Fennas Nogothrim, lasto beth lammen_. [Doorway of the Dwarf-folk, listen to the word of my tongue.]"

"Nothing's happening…" Pippin said.

Gandalf grumbled and sat down, tired and irritated that he could not remember the right words.

"I once knew every spell in all the tongues of Elves, men, and orcs." Gandalf groaned.

"What are you going to do then?" Pippin wondered loudly.

"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that doesn't shatter them, then I'm allowed a little peace from foolish questions! I will try to find the opening words," Gandalf sighed. Pippin looked sheepish and Lúthiel smiled at him, patting his shoulder.

"Come, let us say goodbye to our noble beast," Lúthiel said, leading the hobbits away so Gandalf could think. Aragorn began unburdening the pony, and Lúthiel divvied up which member should take what pack.

"The Mines are no place for a pony, even one so brave as Bill." Aragorn said to comfort Sam, who was having trouble saying goodbye to the noble steed. Lúthiel found herself missing her own mount, Galad, and realized she had not said goodbye to him.

"Who tends the horses in Imladris, Legolas?" she asked, turning to the Elf. He thought a moment, then shook his head.

"I am sorry, my friend, for I do not know. Why do you ask?" he asked, taking the bag she offered him.

"Saying goodbye to Bill, I am reminded of mine own steed, Galad. I did not say farewell, and wanted to know who is tending him."

"None in Imladris," Aragorn said. Lúthiel turned to him, her eyes questioning. "For I sent him with Rommel, back to Buckland. Halbarad shall keep him better than any I know." he said with a small smile. Lúthiel returned it and nodded.

"_Hannon le_, Aragorn."

"You are welcome."

"It is a riddle!" they heard Frodo say. The Companions turned expectantly. "Speak friend…and enter. What is the Elvish word for friend?" the hobbit asked Gandalf.

"_Mellon_,"

The great doors creaked open and they all sighed with relief. Newly burdened with the packs from Bill's back, the Fellowship entered the Mine. Lúthiel disliked the Mine as soon as she stepped inside. She could hardly make out those of her Company that went before her, and the air was dank with rot and age.

"Soon Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the dwarves," Gimli's gruff voice echoed off the dark walls. "Roaring fires, malt beer, red meat off the bone! This, my friend, is the home of my cousin Balin, and they call it a mine. A mine!" He said, amused at the idea.

The light of Gandalf's staff started to illuminate the chamber, to Lúthiel's relief, but as she surveyed the room, her hands went to her knives. The hobbits recoiled in terror, and Legolas had an arrow knocked in moments. The floor was strewn with bones blanketed in cobwebs and broken weapons. Rotted corpses lay in every corner and against every wall, impaled with black arrows. What armor the bones were clad in was rusted through, and the blades and axes were so long unused that even the light from Gandalf's staff could not make them shine.

"This is no mine," said Boromir darkly. "It is a tomb."

"No!" Gimli cried, "No!"

Legolas pulled an arrow from a corpse. "Goblins!" he spat.

"We make for the Gap of Rohan," Boromir said. "We should never have come here!" The hobbits huddled together near the entrance. "Now, get out of here, get out!" Boromir bellowed.

A wet sound turned Lúthiel's head, and to her horror she saw a large tentacle stretch out of the lake to wrap around Frodo's leg.

"Frodo!" Lúthiel yelled, moving to his aid. The hobbit cried out for help, and the other hobbits ran to slice at the tentacle furiously, quickly severing its hold on Frodo. Lúthiel's cry alerted the rest of their companions, but the arm quickly retreated back into the water, mangled and dripping with slime.

Lúthiel pushed the hobbits towards the walls as the water broke with tentacles exploding out of it as though from every angle. One of the tentacles snaked past Lúthiel to grip Frodo's leg again. He was lifted high into the air, as the beast slowly emerged from the depths to reveal a monstrous head and cavernous jaws that enveloped a chasm of sharp teeth.

Aragorn and Boromir threw themselves towards the lake, hacking at the creature and sending sliced tentacles splashing into the water. Legolas fired an arrow at the monster, but to no avail. Lúthiel charged towards the water, her twin blades held high in the moonlight. She hacked at the slimy limbs with all her strength, only to find it was not enough. As she lobbed one off, another came up to crack her across the face and knock her backwards.

"Lúthiel!" Legolas cried, and fired arrows into the beast hurriedly. Lúthiel gasped as the beast lowered Frodo towards its gaping maw. Aragorn severed the limb that held Frodo, and the hobbit came flailing through the air, landing safely in Boromir's arms. The companions lunged towards shore, and Aragorn grabbed Lúthiel by the arm as the creature roared and moved forth towards the gates. Legolas notched two arrows and sent them directly into the creature's head, throwing it backwards for a second, and Gandalf motioned to them furiously.

"Into the mines!" he bellowed. "Hurry!"

With the creature still in pursuit, the Fellowship rushed into the darkness of the mines once more, glad of its stone walls this time. Boulders were ripped from their seats in the earth and the writhing of tentacles persisted behind them. The great dwarven doors were wrenched from their ages-old resting places in the bedrock, and the walls of the cave buckled. The monster raged as the heavy stone covered it, denying it any further pursuit of its prey. A noise of rending and crashing came dully through the ponderous stone, and the hobbits stumbled against each other, terrified and bewildered. Aragorn threw Lúthiel against the wall the hobbits were against and took his stand before them, ready should the monster emerge from the rubble.

It was silent as the dust settled and the Fellowship slowly regained their bearings. They were left in total darkness, out of breath and soaked to their cores with the dark, frigid water that had housed the beast. Their only escape out was sealed shut. Gandalf hit the bottom of his staff against the ground and adjusted his hat as he moved to the front of the jumbled group.

"We now have but one choice," he grumbled. "We must face the long dark of Moria." Lúthiel edged backwards when he said that, the thought of so much darkness causing her throat to tighten. She ran into someone and turned, finding Legolas there, gripping her arms so she would not fall. He offered her a small, tight smile, and gently touched her hand before righting her again and moving forward.

"Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world. And we must go quietly," Gandalf continued, as he led them out onto a narrow winding path. "It is a four day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence will go unnoticed."

The company had travelled without rest for two days and nights, trying to put as much distance between them and the tentacled beast as possible. Lúthiel had taken up her post at the back of the Company to watch their backs, whilst Legolas was at the head of the Company to alert them to oncoming dangers. Lúthiel was by no means afraid of the dark, but she dared not stray from the light that spilled from Gandalf's staff.

On the third day, the Fellowship came to a passage with three forks going off into the dark distance. Gandalf suddenly stopped and looked around between the three entryways.

"I have no memory of this place," the wizard breathed into the darkness. He slumped on a large rock facing the three entryways, and the Company took this as a sign to follow suit.

Time passed slowly, especially in the darkness of the Mines, and it seemed like the Company sat there for days. Eventually, impatience got the best of the hobbits, as it had quite often through their journey, and they began complaining.

"Merry?" asked Pippin.

"What?" Merry answered.

"Are we lost?"

"I don't think so, Pip."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Merry?"

"What?"

"I'm hungry."

This sort of bickering between them had become commonplace on their long journey. Several times Aragorn had to tell them to be quiet, so they would not alert the other inhabitants of Moria to their presence. Though, when they asked who those other inhabitants might be, he gave no answer.

Lúthiel had never felt the cold in her life, had never felt the numbing pain in her fingertips before, but in the Mines of Moria she felt as far from the Eldar's light as she ever had. She wrapped her cloak about her tightly as they had not been permitted to light a fire. Her clothes had dried after the battle with the Watcher in the water, but it seemed to her that she could still feel the icy waters against her flesh, the tentacles sucking at her calf. At length, Lúthiel could take the cold no longer, and she awkwardly scooted to Boromir's side.

"Lúthiel, are you well?" he asked, hesitantly snaking his arm around her shoulders. Lúthiel looked around them to see if anyone was watching, and she shook her head.

"I have never felt the cold before," Lúthiel began softly. "It is foreign to me. Even upon Caradhras I did not feel this…desperation." she admitted to Boromir. He rested his hand on her arm comfortably, and gazed at her with something akin to respect and worry.

"I am sorry you have never felt the cold, for it can be a wonderful thing," Boromir said earnestly. Lúthiel looked up at him questioningly.

"In the White City, winter is the best time of year," he began enthusiastically. "The walls glisten with snow, and the air always smells of wood smoke and cider. When my brother and I were young, we would build great forts out of snow and try to knock the other's keep down." Boromir smiled as he remembered, and Lúthiel found that smile contagious.

"I did not know you had a brother."

"Yes, Faramir. He is five years my junior, but it seems as though he always knows more than I. He has a mind for history and pretty words, but is a fierce and loyal warrior."

"It sounds like you miss him very much," Lúthiel said, thinking of Halbarad and her fellow Rangers. It had been months since she had seen Halbarad, and she missed her foster parent desperately in these dark hours.

"I do. But soon, we shall embrace again, when this darkness has passed." Boromir sighed, and he subconsciously ran his hand up and down Lúthiel's arm comfortingly.

"Shall I tell you more of our winter adventures?" Boromir asked, smiling again. Lúthiel nodded and settled in to listen. Boromir quietly told her tales of his and Faramir's childhoods in the great city of Minas Tirith, and Lúthiel listened intently for quite some time.

Lúthiel must have fallen asleep at some point, though it felt as mere seconds has passed by when Legolas gently began to shake her awake. She opened her eyes to find that she was laying on the cold ground, one of their packs pillowing her head against the hard rock surface.

"Gandalf now knows which direction our travels must take us," he said, offering Lúthiel his hand to help her up. She looked around and found Boromir speaking in low tones with Aragorn.

"How long did I slumber?" she asked Legolas, as she stood. She felt her legs were weak beneath her, but Legolas's hands held her firmly by the waist.

"Not long at all I'm afraid," Legolas looked down into her eyes and Lúthiel felt him press his hands into her waist lightly. "Lúthiel, I overheard what you spoke to Boromir about," he said sheepishly.

"It is alright, my friend. I know how keen your Elf ears are,"

"Lúthiel," Legolas said seriously. "Promise me you will tell me if you feel this…dreadful cold again. You are Peredhil. This cold you feel…it is not natural. There may be something ahead of us that you can feel, while the rest of us do not." he spoke low so that only Lúthiel would hear.

"What do you mean, Legolas?"

"I mean that…your mother's family," Legolas said, seeming to fight with himself. "You have power within you, Lúthiel, the power to see things that have not yet come to pass. Do you understand?" And suddenly, Lúthiel remembered something she once said to Aragorn, upon their first meeting all those years ago.

_I have seen you with a white tree, a green stone, and a broken sword…_

"I can see things," it was a statement. "Like Elrond."

"Yes, my friend. At least…that is what Lord Elrond seemed to believe." Lúthiel nodded, and looked up at Legolas with a sudden ferocity.

"Legolas, if this feeling is a warning…" she paused and shivered violently. "I do not wish to see what lies ahead." Legolas gripped her hand tightly.

"You are not alone, Lúthiel. Your friends are with you." he said firmly. Lúthiel looked up and saw how his eyes bore into her, and she had to look away. She gave him a small, forced smile and walked to join the rest of their company.

For a time, the Fellowship walked in silence together. Lúthiel began to wonder what darkness could possibly ahead of them to cause her to feel so bleak and alone. Her musings were interrupted when they came to the end of a wide flight of stairs, and they were met by a light flow of air. Gandalf sighed and reached up to the knotted wood at the top of his staff.

"Let me risk a little more light," the wizard grumbled.

The staff began to glow brighter and brighter, filling the whole chamber before them. Lúthiel's mouth fell open and she could hear other members of the Fellowship gasp at the magnitude of the hall before them. Lúthiel thought suddenly that the Great Hall of Imladris could have easily fit into this huge chamber ten times or more. It was carved entirely out of stone and sprawling before them with no end in sight. Gigantic pillars reached up from the ground to ceilings that were veiled in the darkness above, so that the place seemed immeasurably tall.

"Behold," the wizard said with a small smile. "The great realm and Dwarf-city of Dwarrowdelf."

"Now there's an eye-opener, and no mistake," Sam muttered in awe. Lúthiel could not have shared his opinion more. Without a word, Gandalf began to lead them down the hall. Lúthiel tried counting the number of pillars they passed, but gave up quickly, seeing that they were innumerable. She strayed closer to the Company again as she saw the shadows behind the pillars and was reminded of what Legolas had told her. Boromir was beside her, and she moved closer to him out of habit, wanting his large form between her and whatever lay beyond Gandalf's circle of light.

Lúthiel heard Gimli exclaim something and he rushed forward to a chamber, even though Gandalf called for him to stop.

"Gimli!" the wizard thundered.

The rest of the Fellowship followed awkwardly, and Lúthiel heard Gimli start to cry when he reached the chamber. A single ray of sunlight shone down, illuminating a large block of polished white stone. As the company filled into the room, Lúthiel looked around at all the debris and skeletons littering the floor. The cold dread that had filled her heart for days welled up inside of her and she took a step back.

"Careful, little one," Aragorn said darkly, putting a comforting hand on Lúthiel's shoulder. When he touched her, she felt warm again, she felt safe again. She reached up and placed her hand over his.

"Thank you my friend." she said softly.

Lúthiel looked at Gimli, who seemed to be sobbing, and noticed Boromir as he stepped hesitantly forward and put a comforting hand on the Dwarf's shoulder. Gandalf stepped towards the tomb, and Lúthiel looked at the carvings on it, unable to recognize what it said. Gandalf, however, understood the language and spoke aloud what was written.

"Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, lord of Moria," he said gravely. "He is dead, then." He stepped away from the tomb. "It is as I feared."

"We must move on," Legolas muttered behind Lúthiel. She turned to see him leaning towards Aragorn. "We cannot linger."

Aragorn's gaze seemed to hold the same sentiments, and Lúthiel leaned in to voice her own opinion.

"Perhaps we should allow Gimli a small time for grieving though, Aragorn. It was his cousin," she whispered. Aragorn shook his head, eyes darting around the room.

"We should press on. Now." he rasped.

But Gandalf did not show any signs that he was planning to leave soon. He handed his hat and staff off to Pippin and bent to dislodge a book from the skeletal hands of a dead Dwarf. The wizard dusted it off, opening it to the last page with writing on it. There were markings in the book that Lúthiel could not understand.

"They have taken the bridge, and the second hall," Gandalf read. "We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums…drums in the deep." Lúthiel felt like an icicle pierced her heart in that moment. "We cannot get out." Gandalf's voice crashed over her like the snows on Caradhras had, and Lúthiel reached for the person closest to her.

"Lúthiel?" Aragorn whispered, concern now filling his voice.

"A shadow moves in the dark," Gandalf continued.

"Lúthiel?" Legolas asked from behind her. Lúthiel turned to him and gripped his hands in hers.

"We cannot get out." Gandalf said.

"Can you feel it?" Lúthiel whispered, her eyes wide with fright.

"They are coming," Gandalf and Lúthiel said at the same time. Lúthiel's eyes shot to the hobbits and she called out: "Pippin!" But, she was too late.

At that moment, there was the grinding noise of metal against stone, as Pippin accidentally dislodged a skeleton into an endless well. Everyone's eyes shot to Pippin. Then, a bucket and the chain that had been connected to the skeleton's foot also crashed down. The deep, ringing sounds it made were horrible to hear, and Lúthiel felt them deep within herself. Finally, the horrific noises faded and all become silent in the chamber.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf bellowed, slamming the tome he held closed. He strode forward and snatched both his hat and staff from Pippin, who looked completely abashed. "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!"

Pippin gulped, looked down, and froze. Gandalf did as well, the whole of the Company froze and Lúthiel finally understood the chill inside of her. For just then, the faint pounding of drums echoed up to them, slowly increasing in volume, and hellish shrieks soon joined the cacophony.

"Frodo!" Sam cried, and they all turned to see the Ringbearer draw his blade. The Elvish blade glowed blue.

"Orcs!" Legolas hissed, and Boromir bolted for the door. He peered out only to have two arrows burry themselves in the door right next to his head. He began to heft the doors closed, pulling the great weight with difficulty, but Aragorn went to his aid. As he helped Boromir close the doors, Aragorn turned to address the hobbits.

"Get back!" he yelled, gesturing. "Stay close to Gandalf!"

The hobbits did not argue, quickly ducking to move behind Gandalf. Though she was terrified of this place, Lúthiel took up a spot in front of Gandalf and the hobbits.

Legolas tossed two grand axes to Aragorn and Boromir to bar the doors better, and took up a place next to Lúthiel, drawing his bow and notching an arrow, ready to take the first life that attempted to get through the doors. As he turned from the door, Boromir looked at Lúthiel.

"They have a cave troll," he said drolly.

As the Fellowship took up their arms, settling themselves into positions to protect the hobbits, and above all else, the Ring and its bearer, Gimli held his axe firmly, glaring madly at the shuddering doors.

"Let them come!" he growled. "There is one Dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!"

"Lúthiel," Aragorn whispered, knowing she would hear him. "If things turn ill, you take Gandalf and the hobbits to the East Gate as quickly as you can run."

"Chieftain," she said, acknowledging the order. She knew in her heart though, that she would not follow it.

Aragorn and Legolas had taken out their own weapons, Aragorn shifting on his feet as he held his bow up and Legolas having had his own drawn for some time. The two were a stark contrast to each other, but each as deadly as the other.

The doors were soon littered with holes, through which the orcs were firing arrows that all seemed to land far and away from their targets. In the next moments, the doors yielded and crashed inward to reveal a tangle of blood-thirsty orcs. The cave troll came barreling close behind, swinging its heavy stone hammer wildly about in angry confusion. It easily tossed away its goblin captors and lunged at Gimli, but the dwarf leaped out of the way, leaving Balin's tomb to be smashed to dust.

Lúthiel's field of vision soon became a whirlwind of friend and foe as she fought fiercely against the horde of monsters, slaying one only to turn and cast another's head to the floor. The odor of their black blood made her head spin. Another orc came up behind her and she whirled, her blade slicing through the armor that protected the tender flesh of its neck. The creature shrieked, grappling at the hole in its neck, only to have Lúthiel burry her blade in its gaping maw. After that, the fighting and the fallen all bled together into a scene of destruction.

As her twin blades danced their gruesome reel, the thought struck Lúthiel that she had lost sight of the hobbits. She looked around in sudden terror and tried to find one of them, any of them. She found that Merry and Pippin seemed to be managing rather better than she had expected, fighting as one. She could not seem to find Frodo, but her gaze fell upon Sam, who had caught the attention of the cave troll. Lúthiel fought to move forward and go to Sam's aid, but a blade nearly caught her neck and she was thrown back into the battle.

When she was able to look again, Lúthiel saw that Aragorn and Boromir had taken hold of the thick chain that swung freely from the troll's massive neck. They pulled on it brutally, causing the troll to choke and stumble backwards, safely away from Sam. Legolas took the opportunity to shoot an arrow into the troll's shoulder, but its thick skin was no match for the single arrow and the troll plucked the shaft out easily.

Lúthiel watched in sudden horror as Boromir was flung across the chamber, still holding the troll's chain. He hit the chamber's stone wall and crashed to the floor like a child's doll.

"Boromir!" she cried, roaring in fury as she sliced her way to him. An armored goblin moved to gut the Gondorian while he lay still dazed on the floor. Lúthiel spun in a single, mesmerizing blur of action, switching one of her twin blades from her right hand to the left, drawing her dagger from her boot, and flinging it into the goblin's throat in one move. She righted her blades again and hacked a few shins in twine as she rushed to Boromir's side.

"What are you doing napping!" she teased, kicking Boromir's blade to him as she drew her dagger out of the dead orc and sheathed it again. "We're in the middle of a fight!" Boromir could only growl in response as he swung his blade at her head. She ducked and turned to find he'd taken the head off of the orc behind her.

The moments passed swiftly, Lúthiel's blades cutting down any that came near her, and soon she was aware that there were no more orcs coming. She was suddenly aware of a horrified silence that had fallen in the chamber. She looked over to see both Aragorn and Frodo fallen on the ground, and the ferocity that had been burning inside of her was suddenly and icily extinguished.

"Aragorn…" she breathed, her knees becoming like jelly beneath her. Then, as though waking from sleep, Aragorn roused and looked around, his gaze falling upon Frodo. Lúthiel breathed a small sigh of relief, and rushed over to the group that surrounded their fallen friends.

"Oh no," Aragorn breathed as he rolled the hobbit over, his face blank with sorrow. Frodo gasped for air, then a sputter and a cough came from the small hobbit, and the Fellowship seemed collectively to exhale.

"He's alive!" Sam cried. Frodo gazed up at his companions.

"I'm alright. I'm not hurt." he said weakly, grasping at his chest.

"You should be dead. That spear would have skewered a wild boar," Aragorn said in disbelief. Gandalf smiled beside her.

"I think there is more to this hobbit than meets the eye." he said cryptically. Frodo dropped his eyes and unbuttoned the top of his shirt, revealing a shining vest of mail underneath, glittering white and gold in the flickering light that shone into the chamber. Lúthiel noted with no small amount of surprise, that the mail had not been broken beneath the spear.

"Mithril!" Gimli gasped, "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins!"

Lúthiel stepped back, glancing around at the carnage they had wrought. Despite the orcs' utter defeat, the cold inside of her had not dissipated. It seemed to grow within her again, chilling her skin and turning her fingertips blue even.

Before anyone could ask Frodo any questions, the sound of more orcs and more drums drifted towards them. Lúthiel's gaze shot to the door and she could see their shadows painting the wall already.

"To the bridge of Khazad-Dûm!" Gandalf spat.


	7. Author's Note

**A/N:** Greetings readers! It has been a long while, and I apologize. Know that the wait has not been in vain though. Just moments ago I updated each of the previous chapters. Since posting the original story, I've learned a bit more about Elvish and the grammar involved. I went through and corrected all of the flawed sentences and added handy translations onto the end. A few other things might have changed, like grammatical mistakes and misspelled words. I will leave it to you to either re-read or not, but I can promise a **NEW** chapter within the next 24 hours.

I've been working diligently on the new chapter, and have actually thrown myself several chapters ahead. I tend to write in a circular pattern rather than linear I've found, so my head goes all over the place and gets rather jumbled and I forget just how much **hasn't** been written!

So, I do apologize for the delay in updates, but I can say with the utmost hope that you will enjoy the new chapters ahead.

Yours as always,

The Mother Quill


	8. Chapter 6

**A/N: So it took longer than I said it would, but here it is! At last! A few notes... 1) This chapter is rated on the very M side of T for reasons pertaining to Lúthiel's past. 2) I will be going by the book timeline whilst our loveable Company is in Lothlórien, which means they'll be there for a while; which means there will be plenty of opportunities for **Lúthiel** to find out far too much about her family. 3) Thank you to all of my new followers and favorite-ers. Don't be shy! Review! I don't bite! In fact, that brings me to 4) This chapter is dedicated to an awesome reviewer named Secret Moon Princess in honor of her amazing and encouraging review of the previous chapters. (See, if you review, you get a happy sticker!) And finally, 5) I like odd numbers...**

**So without further annoyance, Chapter 6!**

Chapter 6~ Lothlórien

(January 15, 3019 III)

Lúthiel sat with a woolen cloth and the dagger Aragorn had given her so long ago, when she was just a child and had never seen war or death or darkness. Her hands shook so badly that she had not yet been able to clean the blood from the shining blade. She could still see Gandalf's eyes in her mind, but it was a different death that filled her mind as she sat there; the first death of a friend she ever witnessed.

Adrahil had been the first boy that had ever bested her on the sparring field. She had been thirteen to his sixteen, but it had still injured her pride to be bested, and so she began training with him. Adrahil was exceptional. It was like his entire body had been created for the soul reason of fighting and tracking. It wasn't difficult at all for Lúthiel's feelings of respect and admiration to turn into something more.

Their friendship blossomed over the years, though Lúthiel never revealed her feelings to Adrahil. It was close to her sixteenth birthday when she was assigned to scout to Rhudaur and the Trollshaws with Adrahil.

"_Psst," Lúthiel's eyes shot open at the hiss from below her. She had learned early in her training that when sleeping in a hammock hung high in the treetop, one did not flail at the smallest noise._

"_Lúthiel, are you awake?" Lúthiel sighed and sat up in her hammock._

"_I am now. What do you want?" she grumbled softly, carefully extracting herself from the hammock and sitting on the high branch it hung from. The man beneath her had already begun the climb up from his own hammock to her branch, but he paused to look up at her. His dark hair hung in tangled curls down to his shoulders. In the fading sun of the afternoon, his eyes seemed to glow like a cat's in the darkness of the trees, and he looked all the more wild for it. _

"_I thought I heard you stirring," he pushed a hand back through his locks. "I was worried you would fall on top of me." Lúthiel snorted at that and shifted her weight on the branch so that he could join her._

"_You just wanted to wake me up so you would have company on sentinel duty. Your shift will last a few hours yet, Adrahil, and I should like to rest before the trek back to Buckland tonight." She moved to climb back into her hammock, but Adrahil gripped her wrist tightly and pulled her close to him._

"_Adra—"_

"_Shh," he pressed his hand over her mouth, suddenly serious. Luthiel remained perfectly still pressed against him, and listened carefully. She wondered how his mortal ears could possibly pick up on a sound that she could not, then realized there was no sound there. She made a low growl in her throat and shoved him back against the tree-trunk. Adrahil chuckled._

"_You're incorrigible." Lúthiel said testily. Again, she tried to leave, and again, she was hindered by Adrahil grasping her wrist. _

"_Stay," he asked softly. "Please?" Lúthiel looked down into his feline eyes and clenched her jaw. _Incorrigible and impossible to say no to_, she thought. She carefully settled her weight back onto the large branch and sighed, gazing out into the Trollshaw woods around them. _

"_You've done well this past week, Lúthiel." Adrahil said, drawing a strip of dried beef from his bag. He tore off of piece and offered it to Lúthiel, who took it with a raised brow as she studied his face. _

"_You're only saying that because you trained me."_

"_No, it's true. That's why I asked the Captain for you to accompany me." This truly surprised Lúthiel. She turned to Adrahil with wide eyes, lowering her hand and the dried beef from her mouth._

"_You asked Halbarad for my company…specifically?" she questioned._

"_Does that surprise you? That I enjoy your company so much?"Adrahil asked. Lúthiel turned to face him and found those strange, wild eyes boring into her and she shivered. _

"_I did not think you felt…that is to say…you're always frustrated with me and I assumed—"_

"_Witty Lúthiel, lost for words. This is truly amusing." he smirked. _

"_Do not play games with me Adrahil. Do not tease or toy with me." Lúthiel bit out through clenched teeth. Adrahil's smile faltered and he covered her knee with his hand._

"_I did not…I'm not used…don't be—" Lúthiel turned to him with a smirk of her own and said,_

"_Witty Adrahil, lost for words?" It took only a second for Adrahil to wipe the smirk from her face though, for he pulled Lúthiel's body against his, leaning back against the wide trunk of the tree. He searched her eyes for a sign, any sign that she was unwilling to be so close, but found none. With one arm wrapped firmly about her waist and the other hand tangled in her dark curls, Adrahil dissolved the distance between them by finally crushing his mouth against hers._

_In the stillness of that early evening, two Rangers revealed themselves to each other amongst the highest boughs of a tree; sharing warmth and breath and skin and heat. It was well after the sun set and a sliver of moon was in the sky that the two rangers finally collapsed against one another._

"_Your father is going to kill me," Adrahil whispered, gently running his fingers through her wild curls. Lúthiel scoffed, her hand pressed against his warm chest. _

"_Halbarad is not my father," she said lazily. "And besides, he likes you."_

"_Right," Adrahil chuckled. Lúthiel shut him up by using her teeth to nip at his neck. _

"_We should move out soon. We're expected back in the forest by the morrow's end." Lúthiel said, sitting up properly. She looked into the eyes of her friend, her lover, and saw that he was just as content as she was to stay in their tree for a while longer. She knew though, that they had miles to go yet on their scout, and little time to travel them._

_Lúthiel fished her breeches down from the hammock she had discarded them into and Adrahil re-laced his own breeches before assisting in taking down the hammocks. They climbed down the tree trunk carefully, and once they had reached the forest floor, their trek out of the Trollshaw began. _

_Lúthiel had only scouted on her own before this excursion, and had been pleased when she found that Adrahil was just as silent as she was whilst on a mission. Today however, the handsome ranger had a skip in his step and a song on his tongue. He whistled as they walked and Lúthiel couldn't help but smile, knowing she'd put him in such a glad mood. _

"_Am I the bird you sing of, Adrahil?" she smiled as they picked their way through the woods. _

"_But of course, my dew-breasted lark." he answered, and took up his song again. He had a nice, strong voice, one she'd heard numerous times before at the Prancing Pony when they stopped in for a drink or respite. She liked it all the more now that he sang of her._

_Lúthiel listened to the song and hummed along as they moved through the forest, but it was too soon that something stopped her humming. Her sensitive Peredhil ears picked up a rumbling noise in the distance, and before she even voiced her concern, she had her bow drawn and an arrow notched._

"_Trolls!" she bellowed angrily. Adrahil had his blade drawn quickly and was looking to Lúthiel for further news. "Two at least… Damn it! We should have traveled by day!" Lúthiel cursed. _

_The beasts came into view and Lúthiel saw that there were in fact two large trolls. She fired her notched arrow directly into the first troll's eye and he fell aside, howling in pain. Lúthiel knew it would not deter him for long, so she notched another arrow and fired at his other eye. She missed, and as the remaining troll reached them, she drew her twin knives from their sheath on her back and shared a look with Adrahil. _

_These trolls were hungry, and mute it seemed. Dumb and starving did not a good troll make, especially if you were in that troll's line of sight. Lúthiel danced away from a massive troll fist and slashed into rough, rocky hide with her knives while Adrahil stabbed at the troll's side with his broadsword. That angered the troll and he crashed his other fist down towards him. Adrahil rolled under his legs and came up to slash across his back, wielding the large sword as though it were an extension of his own arm. _

"_Behind!" Lúthiel bellowed, noting that the first troll she had fired her arrow into was now coming towards them, hot, black blood splashing about in angry piles. Adrahil ducked as the injured troll made to swipe off his head, and came up to bury his sword in the troll's belly. It roared and swatted, knocking Adrahil far away and into a tree with a crunch. _

"_Adrahil!" Lúthiel roared his name, like a war cry, as she sliced through the backs of the standing troll's knees, bringing him to the ground. She spun and shoved her knife up through his mouth. The blade pierced the bottom of the troll's skull and found purchase in his brain. Lúthiel withdrew the weapon with a yank and then slammed it into the troll's eye for good measure. She crossed to the troll that had thrown Adrahil and did the same, making sure it was dead before she quickly ran to where Adrahil had fallen. _

_There was blood—man's blood, not the black blood of a troll. Lúthiel fell to her knees and turned Adrahil over so that his head lay in her lap. That's when she saw where the blood was coming from. When the troll had thrown him against the tree, Adrahil had dropped his sword, then fallen on his own blade. The broadsword was stuck through his side now, the wound steadily spilling blood onto the ground. _

"_Adrahil…" Lúthiel whispered, smoothing back his dark hair. He looked up at her for a moment, a smile on his lips, and then the light faded from those feline eyes._

"_Adrahil…" she cried, collapsing atop his body._

Lúthiel had carried his body back to Buckland, though it had taken her nearly a full day to do so. She did not speak when she reached the borders of the forest, not even when the sentinels questioned her. She did not speak when Halbarad came crashing through the silent woods towards her and crushed her in and embrace. Only when Rondel tried to move Adrahil's body so that he could clean and dress him for burial did she even register anything around her. Halbarad and one of her age-mates had to physically restrain her from attacking Rondel. That was when the tears came. It was two months later when Aragorn came to Buckland to take her to Rivendell.

"Lúthiel," for a moment, the voice was Adrahil's, and she felt like a warm breeze kissed her face. When she looked up though, it was Legolas who spoke. His face was grief-stricken, but he held his hand out to Lúthiel to help her stand. Lúthiel carefully placed her hand in his and he pulled her to stand.

Not thinking, Lúthiel wrapped her arms around the Elf and hugged him tightly. Legolas slowly let his own arms wrap around her and she felt him relax into the embrace.

"You have never seen death, have you, _mellon nín_?" Lúthiel asked softly.

"Not like this…" he answered.

"Legolas, Lúthiel, get them up!" Aragorn ordered. Lúthiel turned to her Chieftain and saw the sorrow in his eyes. She knew he would miss his friend, but now it was up to him to lead them. Lúthiel looked up at Legolas once more and then went to help the hobbits up. She knelt down to Pippin and pulled him up gently.

"Come, my friends, we must keep moving." she said, helping Pippin to his feet and then moving to Merry, who had been holding his crying cousin.

"Come, Master Merriadoc. It is what Gandalf would want,"

"Aye…I suppose it is," Merry said dully. She had never seen the jovial hobbits in such a state. It hurt Lúthiel to see the hobbits so broken and distraught, and so she knelt before them and took both of their hands in hers.

"This too shall pass, my sweet friends," she began softly, looking into their watery eyes. "Death is just another path, one that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass." She leaned up and kissed each of their foreheads, then stood and looked down at them with a small smile.

"Come, we need to get moving." Aragorn said behind her. Lúthiel turned to him and for a single moment, let her eyes show the pain that she fought so hard to hide. Aragorn reached up and gripped her shoulder with his hand, then cupped her face and brought it to his. He pressed his forehead to hers.

"_Nestnín cenich le, loth tithen_. [My heart sees you, little flower.]" he whispered to her, then kissed her forehead. "Let us move!" he called to the others. Lúthiel couldn't remember the last time he had called her 'little flower', but it must have been long ago.

"Come, my friends." she said simply as she darted off behind Aragorn.

On the second day of travel from Moria, the remaining nine members of the Fellowship came upon the river called Nimrodel, and though Legolas was amazed to behold it, Aragorn would not let them tarry. Soon after leaving the trickling sounds of the Nimrodel behind, the Company came upon the entry to the Golden Wood of Lothlórien.

"Take heart, Lúthiel," Legolas said beside her with a smile. "For these are the woods of our people, and we shall find rest and peace within." Lúthiel just smiled in return. She did not have the heart to tell him it was her mortal kin that she missed, that would bring her peace. She knew little and less of these Elves than she did of Lord Elrond's realm, and that gave her little peace indeed.

"Stay close, young hobbits," Gimli whispered loudly, gripping Frodo's arm protectively. "They say there's a great sorceress lives in these woods. An Elf-witch of terrible power. All who look on her fall under her spell…and are never seen again."

"Sounds like a certain Rangers I know," Boromir whispered from Lúthiel's side. She shot him a glare, but her eyes widened when she felt something strange. Images—familiar images—shot through her head, stopping her in her tracks.

_The white tree, the green stone, the broken sword. _And with all of them was Aragorn.

"Lúthiel?" Boromir asked softly, touching her arm. She looked up at him and forced a tight smile.

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked. Lúthiel looked over to see Frodo with the same dazed look upon his face. Was he experiencing the same thing she was?

"Well, here's one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox. Oh!" Suddenly, an arrow was before Gimli, and before Lúthiel could draw her own weapon, there was an arrow pointed at her own face. She heard Boromir grumble from her side and her eyes shifted to see that the whole of the Fellowship was surrounded. Legolas though, seemed to have managed to draw his bow, and was aiming at one of their ambushers while no less than four had their arrows trained on him.

"The Dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark." said an Elf as he stepped forward.

"_Mae govannen, Haldir o Lórien. __Boe ammen veriad lîn. Andelu i ven_. [Well met, Haldir of Lórien. We need your protection. The road is fell.]" Aragorn said. Lúthiel realized that he knew this Elf that led the archers who were currently threatening them.

"We will discuss this in the protection of the trees. Bind them!" the Elf ordered. Lúthiel glared as an Elf bound her wrists, but started kicking when a hood was pulled over her head.

"What's the meaning of this?" Boromir exclaimed angrily.

"These are dark days, even friends are warily received in the Golden Wood. Come." the Elf who seemed to be in charge, called Haldir, said. Lúthiel was pushed forward, but she felt Boromir in front of her and felt him struggling against his bonds.

"Best not, my friend. If their accuracy with a bow is anything like Legolas's, you would die before you took a step away." she whispered to him, even though she knew the Elves would hear.

"Lúthiel, stay close to me. Bonds or no, I will be parting heads from shoulders should you be harmed." Lúthiel smiled inside of her hood.

"Of course, my friend." she answered.

They were marched through the woods for what seemed like hours before they were stopped, and the hoods removed. As soon as he could see, Boromir went to stand beside Lúthiel, and he gripped her hands in his gloved grasp. Lúthiel looked up at him and gave a small smile. They all stood on a shining platform in the trees.

"_Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion_, [Well met, Legolas, son of Thranduil.]" said Haldir.

"_Govannas vîn gwennen le, Haldir o Lórien_. [Our Fellowship stands in your debt, Haldir of Lórien.]" Legolas answered, his words not reflecting the anger on his face. Haldir then looked over at Lúthiel and bowed his head to her.

"_A, Lúthiel Lómelindi, istannen le ammen_. [Oh, Lúthiel Lómelindi, you are known to us.]"

"I shall speak in words my friends can understand, Haldir of Lórien, if you can lower yourself to speak the Common Tongue." Lúthiel said evenly, though all could hear the anger seething just below the surface. Aragorn put his arm in front of Lúthiel and looked down at her with a sharp glance.

"Yes, speak words we can all understand!" Gimli grumbled. Haldir looked down at the Dwarf with barely concealed disgust.

"We have not had dealings with the Dwarves since the dark days." he said.

"And do you know what this Dwarf says to that," Gimli spoke a phrase that Lúthiel did not understand or recognize, and Aragorn slapped a hand onto his shoulder.

"That was not so courteous." he muttered through clenched teeth, and Lúthiel wondered how many different tongues her Chieftain could speak. Haldir looked around at the Fellowship and his eyes stopped on Frodo.

"You bring great evil here," he said icily. "You can go no further." He walked off, but Aragorn followed on his heels, speaking in rapid Elvish again as he went.

Lúthiel clenched her jaw tightly as she watched the Elf treat her Chieftain like a common peasant, and she turned to Legolas.

"How am I known to these Elves, Legolas?" she asked softly, standing before him and trying to keep her voice low.

"Perhaps you should wait and ask Aragorn when we have entered the city." Legolas answered in the same tone.

"They have not agreed—"

"They will." he said, sure of himself. And as Lúthiel looked over at Aragorn, she saw Haldir finally nod his assent.

"You will follow me." he said, addressing the whole Company. Lúthiel looked back at Legolas and he nodded for her to move forward, placing his hand on her back.

The Marchwarden, Haldir, and his men led them through the Golden Wood. Lúthiel moved behind Merry and Pippin, taking up the back of their line with one of the Marchwarden's scouts behind her. She was still musing over how the Elves of this land would know of her and she did not notice when the company came to a halt in front of her. She ran into Boromir and felt his hands go to her arms to steady her.

"Apologies, Boromir. I was lost in thought."

"No apology is needed, my lady. I too staggered at the beauty before me," Boromir said. Lúthiel did not know what he spoke of, and looked up to see the rest of her traveling companions atop a hill. She climbed the hill with a strange need within her, and she felt a strangled sob escape from her throat when she laid eyes on what was before her.

They stood above and open space. To the left stood a great mound, covered with a sward of grass as green as spring time in the Elder days. Upon it, as a double crown, grew two circles of trees. The outer had bark of snowy white and were leafless, but beautiful in there shapely nakedness; the inner were mallorn trees of great height, still arrayed in pale gold. High amid the branches of a towering tree that stood in the center of all there gleamed a white flet. At the feet of the trees, and all about the green hillsides, the grass was studded with small golden flowers shaped like stars. Among them, nodding on slender stalks, where other flowers, white and palest green; they glimmered as a mist amid the rich hue of the grass. Over all the sky was blue, and the sun of afternoon glowed upon the hill and cast long green shadows beneath the trees.

"Behold, you are come to Cerin Amroth," said Haldir with a pleasant smile on his face. "Here we will stay awhile, and come to the city of the Galadrim at dusk."

Haldir led Frodo up to the flet in the center of the trees, Merry and Pippin stretched out in the warm grass, Gimli was at a loss for words, and Aragorn removed himself from the company as though lost in a memory. Lúthiel knelt in the soft grass and removed her boots. It had been a long time indeed since her feet had had the pleasure of grass beneath them, and Lúthiel laughed aloud as she wiggled her toes.

"All in working order?" Boromir asked from her side. Lúthiel turned with a smile and she nodded. Lúthiel looked down to see that Boromir had removed his gloves and held one of the pale white blossoms in his palm.

"They remind me of Minas Tirith, of my city. They remind me of Faramir." he said softly. "He was a student of Gandalf's. I know his loss will weigh heavily on Fara's shoulders." Lúthiel smiled at the absent use of the nickname. She studied Boromir's face carefully. She had never seen him so blue in the months they had known one another.

"You care for him very much," she said softly.

"Of course I do. He's all I—" Boromir paused, catching himself before he said something he clearly hadn't meant to. "He and my father are the only family I have. Our mother died when we were young."

"Just when I think I've gotten to know you, you peel back another layer and become even more of a mystery, my dear Captain." Lúthiel said with a soft smile on her face. Boromir turned to her and returned the smile. He reached up and tucked the white blossom behind her ear, letting his hand linger against her cheek for a moment.

The sun was sinking behind the mountains and the shadows were deepening in the woods when they went on again. Their path now went into thickets where the dusk had already gathered. Night came beneath the trees as they walked and the Elves leading them uncovered silver lamps. Finally, the group came to a halt and beheld a glade of trees rising above the face of the world, and Haldir spoke.

"Caras Galadhon, the heart of Elvendom on earth, realm of Lord Celeborn and of Lady Galadriel, Lady of Light."

The Elves lead them into Caras Galadhon and Lúthiel found herself more and more in awe with each step. The trees stretched above the earth, some too far to be seen above the mists, and each seemed to glow with ethereal white light. The masterfully and beautifully carved flets the Galadrim lived in were unlike anything the hobbits had ever laid eyes on, and the whole company was led on in wonder.

Soon, the company was brought to a mighty old tree with a brilliantly carved staircase spiraling up and around it. Haldir led them up, and it seemed to Lúthiel that as they rose, so too did the night, for the very stars seemed to be set in the tops of the trees. As she mused, she noticed other Elves watching them; noble Elves, the sort she'd encountered in Imladris, and yet somehow, entirely different from them. She became uncomfortable. Even amidst the beauty of this place, she felt suffocated by the presence of a race that would always look down on her for being something _less than_.

They reached the platform at the top of the tree and Lúthiel was glad to be between Legolas and Boromir. She wasn't overly fond of such heights, and was less than enthusiastic to be in an Elvish city even larger than Rivendell. She was clenching her jaw and playing with her fingers when a hand fell upon hers and she looked up to see Boromir looking down at her with concern on his handsome face. She gave a tight nod and smile and tried to withdraw her hands, but he kept a hold on one hand. Their joined hands fell between them as two brilliant figures appeared at the top of the steps before them.

Suddenly, Lúthiel felt like she had never seen true light before, looking at the two shimmering figures who descend the steps so gracefully. It was as though they were made from the rays of the sun and the beams of the moon and that the stars danced upon their garb and in their hair. They were beautiful and terrible to behold, their features hidden from the company due to the light surrounding them. When they finally reached the bottom of the platform, Lúthiel looked upon their faces.

The man was handsome, masculine, an oddity in the Elvish race she'd come to find. To be sure, he was beautiful, but the strength within him was hard to ignore. Lúthiel respected strength, and she sensed this Elven Lord had once been a formidable warrior. When she looked on the woman, it was as though a bolt of lightning ripped through her and she tightened her grip on Boromir's hand.

She had seen this woman before, in her dreams. When their eyes locked, brilliant blue to misty grey, Lúthiel felt broken and yet whole. She wanted to scream, to cry out in fear and in joy. She wanted to collapse on the ground and to run far, far away at the same time. For the first time in her life, she felt the raw power inside of her and it was terrifying.

Galadriel inclined her head ever so slightly towards her husband, as though giving him the power to speak first, and he did.

"The enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone," he said in a strong, commanding voice. He scanned the company and his strong brows furrowed. "Nine that are here, yet ten there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar…"

"Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land," Galadriel whispered, her eyes on Aragorn. Her voice was clear and musical, but deeper than the voices of most women. There was an ancientness there, a knowing that came with great years upon the earth. "He has fallen into shadow." she said sorrowfully. Aragorn gave a slight nod and Celeborn turned towards his wife.

"He was taken by both shadow and flame," Legolas began, his voice raspy from grief. "A Balrog of Morgoth… For we were needlessly in the net of Moria."

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his whole purpose." Galadriel said strongly. Her gaze slowly fell on Gimli and her face softened a bit.

"Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dûm fill your heart, Gimli, son of Glóin. For the world has grown full of peril. And in all lands, love is now mingled with grief." Her eyes moved to Boromir then, and Lúthiel saw him look up from the corner of her eye. Whatever passed between the two caused Boromir great pain, for he looked away as he covered a sob. Lúthiel tightened her grip on his hand and placed her other hand on his chest. He looked down at her and Lúthiel saw a tear fall to the ground.

"What now becomes of this Fellowship? Without Gandalf, hope is lost." Celeborn spoke. Lúthiel looked up and narrowed her eyes at him. Aragorn would lead them. Of course he would. Did no one see that?

"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all," Galadriel said direly, her gaze sweeping over the entire company. It was as though she held them with her eyes, and in silence looked searchingly at each of them in turn. "Yet hope remains while the company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight you will sleep in peace."

As though conjured from the light around them, beautiful maids were suddenly at their sides motioning the company back down another flight of steps.

The company was led to the forest floor again, much to the delight of the hobbits and Gimli. The Elves spread a pavilion out for them among the trees near a fountain, and in it they laid soft couches and pillows and a table so that the Company may eat before sleep.

The maids led Lúthiel away from the others though, to an enclosed white tent that had been set up. Inside was a large tub of steamy water sprinkled with fragrant white blossoms. Lúthiel had never been one for frills and fussing, having been raised by and around men, but seeing that bath sent pleasure through her aching limbs. She disrobed meticulously, setting her weapons aside carefully, and when she was satisfied that the Elvish maids had treated her things with respect, she lowered herself into the bath. She nearly moaned in pleasure, but bit her lip and sighed instead.

The maids scrubbed the dirt and blood from her skin and cleaned and trimmed her nails. They gently massaged the dirt and grime from her long tresses and rinsed them with cool fragrant water. She would have been content to lounge in the bath for the rest of the night, but stepped out and allowed the women to dry her and dress her in a long nightgown of the palest blue silk. They offered her perfumed oils to rub on her wrists, but she declined and thanked them both earnestly. The maids left and Lúthiel wrung the water from her hair and let it fall freely down her back before draping the thin silk robe she'd been given over her shoulders.

When she reached the pavilion, the hobbits had already filled their bellies with food. Gimli had decided to turn in rather quickly and could be heard snoring lightly from his own little corner. She noted that her friends had received some sort of bath as well, which made her feel better. Aragorn sat sharpening his sword when she approached and the hobbits were fluffing their pillows.

Lúthiel knelt to arrange her own sleeping area when she heard the strands of music begin to pull at the edge of her senses.

"A lament for Gandalf," Lúthiel turned to see Legolas in a handsome sleeping suit of white and silver carrying a carafe of water. Their eyes met and he stepped towards her.

"What do they say about him?" Merry asked from his bed.

"I have not the heart to tell you," Legolas answered softly. "For me the grief is still too near."

"Lúthiel, could you tell us?" Pippin asked softly. Lúthiel smiled down at him and nodded.

"Olórin, who once was sent by the Lords of the West to guard the lands of the East, wisest of all Maiar. What drove you to leave that which you loved? Mithrandir, Mithrandir O Pilgrim Grey, no more will you wander the green fields of this earth. Your journey has ended in darkness. The bonds cut, the spirit broken, the Flame of Anor has left this world. A great light, has gone out…" Lúthiel sang as clearly as she could, mingling her words of the common tongue with the Quenya and Sindarin sung by the Elves.

"They didn't mention his fireworks," Sam said with a frown. He looked pensive for a moment and then stood. "The finest rockets ever seen, they burst in stars of blue and green. Or after thunder, silver showers came falling like a...rain of flowers… Oh, that doesn't do them justice by a long road." the hobbit mumbled, sitting back down. Lúthiel knelt and placed her hand on his small shoulder.

"It was lovely," she said with a smile. "Get some sleep, Brave Samwise. All of you, sleep well tonight." she said, looking at each of the hobbits. They gave her sad, tight smiles, and it made her heart ache to see the jovial beings so sad. Frodo alone did not try and cover his grief with a false smile. His eyes were chasms of woe, and it pained Lúthiel to look into them for too long.

She looked away and saw Boromir sitting apart from the rest of the group, still in his bloody clothes. Her brow furrowed as she crossed to him. She placed her hand on his shoulder and he started, coming out of deep thoughts.

"Lúthiel," he breathed, shaking his head to clear it. "Apologies. I was deep in thought."

"You don't look well. Why did you not let the Elves take your clothes to be washed and mended? You would rest easier in soft pajamas than you would in your traveling cloths." she made to unfasten his vambraces, but his hand shot out and gripped her wrist.

"I heard her voice inside my head, Lúthiel," he whispered fiercely. "The Lady Galadriel."

Lúthiel knelt beside him, looking up into his feverish grey eyes. There were tear tracks down his dirty face.

"She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor. My father is a noble man, but his rule is failing. And now our…our people lose faith. He looks to me to make things right and I—I would do it. I would see the glory of Gondor restored. But what he's asked of me…"

Lúthiel leaned up and cupped his face in her hands, her brow furrowed with worry. She ran her hand over his forehead, pushing his hair from his face.

"Boromir, do not speak this way. Gondor is my rightful home, a dream I have clung to in the darkest times of this life. I will not let it fall, and neither will Aragorn," she saw that Boromir seemed little pacified, and so she firmly gripped his chin in her hand, forcing him to look into her eyes. "Neither will Faramir. If you cannot trust in Aragorn or in myself, trust in the brother you love so. I do not know Faramir, but if one as noble as Boromir, Captain of the White Tower trusts him, then he must be a mighty force."

Boromir's eyes softened and he couldn't stop himself from leaning his forehead against Lúthiel's. For a moment, her shoulders tensed at the intimate gesture, but then she sighed and caressed his cheek lightly.

"Come, my friend," she said softly, pulling away yet clasping her hand over his. "Let us see if we cannot find some water to wash that pretty face of yours with." Boromir smirked at her. He would have let her lead him anywhere, but luckily there was a wash basin not far from them.


End file.
